


Candles Blew (and then disappeared)

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Don't Let's Start Adjacent [16]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Horror, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, It starts fun and it gets Pain, Kuron (Voltron)-centric, Kuron Whump, Kuron is Ryou (Voltron), Whump, Y'all know me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: The universe can be a terrifying place. Few people know that better than Ryou.5 times Ryou was scared ...
Relationships: Allura & Kuron (Voltron), Kuron & Lance (Voltron), Kuron & Shiro (Voltron), Kuron & Voltron Paladins, Ryou & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Don't Let's Start Adjacent [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/892047
Comments: 43
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

Pidge rubs her palms together, her eyes shining with equal parts glee and threat. “Everybody ready?”

In this particular case, ‘everybody’ means ‘Allura and Ryou’. This all started from their Star Trek watching parties. They had gone through the episodes they happen to have, then through the movies, and then into unrelated media, mostly for the excuse to relax and watch something silly.

Usually, these watch parties also include Hunk. But Pidge had said the words ‘horror movie night’, and he’d bailed immediately.

Ryou thinks Hunk might have had the right idea. It had sounded fun until this moment. Now it’s clear Pidge has a  _ plan, _ which is far scarier than any movie.

If Allura feels the same way, she doesn’t show it. Her hands are folded demurely in her lap, but her smile has more than a hint of challenge to it. 

“Of course we are ready,” she says. “I’m sure this will be very interesting.”

‘Interesting’, for Allura, is code for ‘quaint’. Or, rather, ‘it’s very cute that the humans think they know things, look at them try, it’s so precious.’

Clearly, she doesn’t think a human-produced movie is going to be at all frightening.

Ryou flops his legs over the arm of the couch, settling in comfortably sideways against a stack of pillows. It’s a posture he’s borrowed from Lance, mostly because it usually makes Shiro’s nose wrinkle up. 

Once he’s settled, Ryou gives a thumbs up, masking his nerves behind a smile. “All good here. What are we watching?”

“That would be telling,” Pidge says. She folds her legs under herself, then sets her tablet on her thighs. As she taps, the lights go dim and the screen appears in front of them.

Immediately, Ryou starts to squint. The castle’s projected screens can be any size to match the media being shown. So there’s no reason the image quality should suffer. Yet the movie has a blurry, jerky quality, like they’ve zoomed in too far.

Next to him, Allura leans forward and frowns. “Is there something wrong with this copy?” She asks carefully. “Perhaps it did not take well to being imported onto the castle’s server.”

“Nope,” Pidge says, popping the ‘p’ with obvious satisfaction. She flops back comfortably in her chair. “That’s what it’s made to look like. It’s a period piece. They made the film look like it would back then.”

True to her word, the film starts to play. The camera zooms through an old fashioned neighborhood, complete with suburban yards, and cuts to the inside of one. 

The furniture is at least a century old - many clearly plastic or wood. An actual, physical monitor dominates the wall of what must be the living room, and each bedroom has a smaller version on a desk.

Ryou’s not nearly as good at dates as Shiro is, for obvious reasons. He can’t figure out what century this is supposed to be from. 

Either way, it’s jarring to see a home that’s clearly on Earth, and yet looks so little like what he remembers.

Shifting in place, Allura’s gaze cuts toward Ryou. One pale brow rises - clearly, she doesn’t see what’s supposed to be scary about this building.

Ryou shrugs one shoulder back. He couldn’t say. A glance at Pidge gives him nothing - her face is aimed toward the screen, posture still comfortable and a hint smug.

Distantly, Ryou knows horror is a genre of movie with it’s tropes and cliches. But for the life of him, he wouldn’t be able to list them. It’s an itch at the back of his mind to know he  _ should _ be aware of what’s coming, but to come up totally blank. He thinks there are monsters involved, but that’s about it.

Sitting on this couch, side by side and equally bemused as Allura, Ryou has more in common with the alien than the human.

The movie continues on, establishing the family - a mother and father, with two daughters. The younger of the two was a shutter bug, and so often the film would switch to look like her cell phone footage. It made the scene all the more difficult to make out, with a limited frame and occasional jerky movements.

Nearly half an hour goes by with nothing truly frightening happening. Instead, they’re lead through the life, peeling away the idyllic outer layers of the family into the problems below - alcohol, fights, cheating, being closeted.

By a certain point, Ryou forgets they’re watching a horror movie. He isn’t captivated, but the drama is entertaining enough to keep his interest.

But soon enough, the problems in their lives give way to far less mundane issues. Doors slam open and shut, the lights go out. Things are moved. All easy to explain away for the family, but clearly building up to something.

Ryou finds himself leaning forward, squinting as he tries to make out details on screen. It’s difficult to make out shapes, especially in the darker scenes. At times he thinks he sees movement or shapes, but in a blink it seems to be gone.

“This would be more effective with superior cameras,” Allura mutters. Her lips are pulled down and her fingers clench around the fabric of her dress.

Pidge doesn’t look over, but the light from the screen still illuminates her smirk. “You think so?” She says, far too innocent to be truthful. Nothing else.

Ryou crosses his arms and shifts so he’s sitting properly in his chair, no longer draped sideways. “If there’s supposed to be something in there, I’m missing it. I can’t see shit.”

That only earns him a chuckle, low and ominous.

Discomforted, Ryou settles back and pulls his knees up to his chest.

The haunting escalates. 

The eldest daughter climbs into bed, only to find it full of the shattered pieces of her mirror. She screams, clothes cut and freely bleeding, and blames the youngest daughter. Their screaming match quickly turns ugly.

Then the youngest is grabbed, lifted up, and slammed against a wall from an invisible force.

The sudden, violent movement, combined with a painfully loud swell of the music, makes Allura and Ryou both jump.

Pidge outright cackles. “Not scary, huh?”

“It’s a loud noise,” Ryou shoots back, shoulders jolting up as he tenses. “Of course we jump. We’re all trained to react to sudden movements.”

At the same time, Allura scoffs and crosses her arms tightly. “I still don’t see anything!”

On screen, the younger girl chokes, scrambling at her throat. The oldest swats at the air and tries to yank her down, to no avail.

Behind her, there’s a pale, flowy shape with two dark, skull-like eyes.

The younger girl lets out a pained gargle, the closest she can give to a scream.

Ryou jolts again, jerking backward as if he can get away from the projected screen. 

Pidge’s snickers get louder.

Reaching back, Ryou grabs a pillow and throws it at her. She ducks to the side, so it harmlessly bounces off the loveseat. She snags it and shoves it behind her back, smuggling getting comfortable.

Oh, Pidge is asking for it. Ryou is going to  _ remember _ this.

The apparition vanishes. The younger girl falls heavily to the ground, heaving out sobs, while her sister cradles her close.

Bit by bit, the haunting grows worse. The parents are next, going from an intimate moment in the shower broken up by an argument. 

When the husband starts to bring up the suspected cheating, the water suddenly turns on, steaming hot. When they try to get out, the door is stuck. Barely visible in the mirror, the pale figure watches.

Under the strain of the haunting, the fights grow worse. As the family refuses to work together, the attacks grow more dangerous.

First, the father attempts to fix the light figure. The ladder is pulled out from under him as the wires wrap around his throat. He suffocates, dangling in place.

Next, the mother breaks down. When she attempts to flee, still carrying a bottle of wine, she trips down the stairs. The glass shatters with her, and she is left a ragged, bled out mess at the bottom.

Finally, the sisters are able to work together. They stay close through the night, defending each other against the bolder and bolder attacks, and in the morning they are able to flee to safety.

As the end credits play, Ryou takes a deep breath and lets it go. “I’m not sure I’d call that scary,” he says.

“Certainly violent,” Allura says. Her nose is crinkled with distaste. “Perhaps it might be frightening to humans, especially ones who do not have our... experience.”

Shrugging, Pidge tilts her head back just enough to look at Allura. “Well, living through this was pretty scary to 20th century humans, considering there wasn’t a good explanation for what was happening.”

Well, that finally gave him the timeline. But wait... Ryou’s brow furrowed. “People knew what movies were back then,” he says. “Someone made this, obviously it’s fake.”

“The movie is fake,” Pidge agrees. “But the account it’s based on is real. Even then, people didn’t understand that ‘ghosts’ were quantum imprints.”

Quantum  _ what? _

Allura looks between them both, her eyes going wide. In the gloom, the pink flecks in her eyes shine, like a predator. “You’re saying this actually happened to someone?”

“Yeah,” Pidge says, as if that’s totally obvious. “Most horror monsters and creatures are based on unexplained phenomena. This one just happens to be a little bit more direct. A specific release of energy at the time of death caused strange effects that could only be seen sometimes.”

Ryou stares at the side of Pidge’s face, his mind racing to catch up.

She’s saying... ghosts are real. This actually happened. And that’s common knowledge now.

There’s no way he’d have forgotten something fundamental, right? Ryou wouldn’t be so sure ghosts were just stories if Shiro didn’t believe it too.

Except he did sometimes get mixed up. His Japanese is the obvious example of that, but he’s encountered more than a few items that should be common knowledge, but that he’s totally forgotten. His first time experiencing fireworks was a trip.

Allura frowns and crosses her arms over her stomach. “These... quantum imprints. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Her eyes narrow.

Pidge still doesn’t look over. Which is... suspicious. The curve of her cheek twitches, like she’s fighting off a smile. “You don’t? Weird. Maybe humans are just different. You’ve got to admit, it makes for a good movie.”

“Eh,” Ryou says. “Maybe not really my genre, but it was fine. This was really based on a true story? Pretty deadly for an  _ imprint.” _

“Alright, so it was dramaticized.” Pidge shrugs loosely. She finally turns around to look at them properly. The hint of a smirk is gone, and her eyes are innocently wide. Maybe too innocent. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, though. I figured it’d be common around the universe.”

Allura looks to him. Her frown deepens. “This all still seems strange to me. You know about this, Ryou?”

“Humanity is strange to you.  _ Milk _ is strange to you.”

“This is different!” Allura doesn’t look away from Ryou, her gaze direct. 

Ryou hesitates, because if this is real he doesn’t want to sound like an idiot. But... no, he still has no belief in this shit. “I don’t. I only know about ghosts from stories. They’re not real.”

“Yeah,  _ ghosts _ aren’t real. But imprints are.” Pidge cocks her head, still oh-so-innocent. “You don’t know this? Weird. Guess it wasn’t on Shiro’s mind for a while.”

Ryou searches his brain frantically for evidence one way or another. It  _ feels _ wrong, but he’d also forgotten fireworks, which are apparently extremely common. “If imprints are real, why was everyone so confused when Sendak’s memory messed with the castle?”

There’s a blink, a brief moment of hesitation. “Well, it was weird no matter what. Like the gravity turning off.”

“This is ridiculous. You’re pranking us to try and scare us because your silly movie didn’t work.” Allura raises her chin. “It wasn’t scary.”

Pidge tilts her head. A grin cracks across her face, like she’s been holding it back, but she doesn’t break otherwise. “Nope, just sharing context. And really, not scary? There was a whole lot of jumping going on. You sure about not being scared?”

“There’s a difference between being startled and scared.” Ryou shrugs, trying to shake off the creeping doubt. “Allura’s right. We do scarier things all the time. Hell, like you said with Sendak’s memories. That was way scarier.”

Allura nods, projecting pure ease. “We’re a difficult lot to shake. Or fool.”

Pidge’s lips press thin. Finally, she shrugs. “Alright, if you say so.” It’s meant to sound disbelieving, but it comes across disappointed. Clearly, she was looking forward to teasing them.

“Next time, we’ll drag in Lance and Hunk,” Ryou promises. “They’ll be more fun.”

“I tried,” Pidge mutters darkly. “Fine, whatever, don’t believe me. Want to watch one more? This one’s less jumpscares and more monsters.” She taps at her tablet and another movie menu screen comes up.

Ryou eyes the screen, stomach sinking. He really doesn’t want to watch another one.

Not that he’s scared or anything. Obviously not. It just... wasn’t that fun. Really.

Thankfully, Allura seems to be on the same page. “We started the last one late,” she points out. “And we have things to do in the morning.”

“We have things to do every morning.” Pidge flops down dramatically over the loveseat. “Fine, you be lame. Ryou?”

“What time is it?”

Pidge’s bottom lip juts out, but she obligingly looks down at the tablet again. “Nearly midnight. Not that late.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be like 2 when we finish up.” Ryou shakes his head and stands. He stretches his back until it cracks. “Next time. Sorry.”

“Lame! Both of you!” Pidge drops her tablet onto her face, as if she can’t stand to look at them. “You two go. I’ll have fun.”

It’s on the tip of Ryou’s tongue to remind Pidge that she has responsibilities. But, well, he’s not Shiro, so fuck it. “Your funeral,” Ryou says, then grins. “Oh, hey. Pun.”

“I take it back. I want you to leave me alone.”

Allura shakes her head, but it’s fond. “Alright. I do not want to hear any complaints in the morning.” She turns to the door, ignoring Pidge’s sarcastic grumbling with royal dignity.

Ryou follows along, stretching again.

The door to the common room closes, leaving them in the dim light that runs along the hallway. It is otherwise very dark and very quiet.

Ryou swallows hard, stomach dropping. In the living room he’d been fine. But now he finds himself squinting into the dark, just like that movie. The last couple of hours have trained him to search for movement and shapes in the dark, even when they aren’t there.

He’s doing it again now.

Pidge was messing with them. He’d remember if ghosts were real.

...Right?

Allura clears her throat, then sets down the hallway at a fast clip. Her dress whips around her with each step. “Well,” she says, louder than in the common room. “I’m looking forward to a nice restful sleep.”

“Me too,” Ryou says automatically. He jogs after her, keeping the pace. He suddenly doesn’t want to be alone in this dark hallway.

That’s silly. Ridiculous. There’s nothing in the castle They would know.

Of course, they hadn’t realized when Sendak was in the ship’s computers-

But they’d know that now, and Sendak had been removed long ago. Longer than Ryou has been his own person. So there’s nothing that can be down the hall.

Except Ryou can’t stop looking.

They come to Allura’s room first. The door opens at a touch. She steps forward, and then hesitates, looking back over her shoulder. “You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, of course.” Ryou smiles and straightens up, despite the way his stomach twists. His room is just around the corner. What could possibly happen in the meantime?

Allura nods slowly. She pauses again, like she’s waiting for another answer, then smiles. “Okay. Good to know. I wasn’t sure if perhaps that movie was more effective on humans.”

“Nope, I’m fine.”

Another beat. “Excellent. Then... Good night.”

“Night.”

Finally, Allura steps inside the room. The door closes, leaving Ryou alone in the dark.

A shiver jolts up his spine. Ryou glances around, as if anyone else might be in the room. Lurking. With a pale face and skull-like eyes.

He’s being so ridiculous. What, a ghost in a movie is going to be in the Castle of Lions?

Ryou turns and starts down the hall toward his own room, chin held high. His steps are even and slow.

Or, he tries to keep them that way. Until he thinks of the ghost lurking behind the eldest, unseen, while the younger tries to choke out a scream.

Ryou runs the rest of the way to his room.

Immediately, he turns to the console and flips on the lights. Then, he looks carefully over the room. It’s messier than Shiro’s, mostly because he keeps more things around. His bed is made, but the desk is covered in nuts and bolts. Several old, abandoned projects lean against the wall.

Perfectly normal. Everything exactly where it should be.

Ryou sits down on his bed and takes a deep breath. He’s fine. The movie isn’t real - ghosts aren’t real. Even if it was true, the movie takes place on a planet hundreds of lightyears away.

Saying that does nothing to stop the way his heart pounds, or the creeping doubt in his mind. As silly as the worries are, as nonsensical as the movie is-

Ryou opens his eyes. They automatically lock on a framed photo of the team, and he sees a pale face looking back at him.

Yelping, Ryou grabs his pillow and throws it. The frame falls over with a clatter, and the pillow flops onto the floor.

Only then does he realize the pale face he saw was his own, reflected poorly in the glass.

“Stupid-”

Ryou covers his face and flops back down on the bed.

Why had he agreed to do this? Obviously, Hunk is the only one of them who has any sense. But he could have at least warned them.

...Of what? A stupid movie? Pidge’s plans? What horror meant? Ryou knew all those things. He’s being ridiculous.

Ryou kicks off his shoes and changes into his pajamas, absolutely refusing to give into his worries and peer around the room again. Then he lays down and draws the covers over himself. With a touch to the tablet on his bedside table, the lights go off.

Ryou closes his eyes.

Then opens them and looks around.

Then closes them. He pulls his blanket up over his head and curls up tighter.

He knows he’s alone. He knows the castle is safe. He knows the stupid movie isn’t real.

But he can’t stop imagining a pale figure with dark, skull-like eyes in the corner of the room, watching him. Ryou starts to turn away, but freezes, remembering the glass in the bed scene. If he rolls over, will there be-

Of course there won’t be. What’s wrong with him?

“It’s not real,” Ryou mutters. He rolls again, ignoring how he wants to flinch, and of course he doesn’t cut himself on glass. 

Pulling the blankets up even higher, Ryou tucks them under his head, as if that’ll be protection enough from ghosts or his fears. He shoves his face into the pillow and wills himself to sleep.

It doesn’t work. Ryou’s ears strain and his heart picks up again. He can’t help listening for any sign of another presence in the room. Footsteps, items shifting, the whisper of fabric-

_ Thump-thump. _

Ryou jolts  _ hard, _ shoving the blanket away and bringing his arm up defensively in one motion. He twists to face the threat, only to forget how narrow the bed is. His sheet-tangled legs slide off the side, bringing him all down to the floor.

Ryou breathes fast, tensed defensively. His head darts left to right, trying to find the source of the noise.

Only to hear the thumping again to his left.

From the door.

Because someone is knocking.

Ryou runs his natural hand down his face and groans. Stupid. Absolutely stupid.

He detangles himself from his sheets and moves to the door. He hesitates for only a second, tensed  _ just in case, _ before he opens it.

At first, he sees a pale, amorphous shape. Ryou’s heart lodges into his throat.

But he blinks, and he realizes the shape is Allura’s white, voluminous hair. She stands in her own pajamas, hand still up from knocking. Her cheek markings glow very slightly in the dark.

Allura drops her hand and clears her throat. “Good evening,” she says, tone even more formal than usual.

“Hey,” Ryou replies. He looks over her, taking in how messy her hair is and how tense her posture is. “You needed something?”

“I-” The cheek markings glow brighter - Allura’s version of blushing deeply. “I apologize if I woke you. I thought you might still be up.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t asleep. You need to talk?” Ryou steps back to let her into the room. He glances back, hoping the tangled mess of sheets on the floor doesn’t give too much away.

Allura steps in quickly, giving him a flash of a smile. “Need is a strong word. I just had... questions. To discuss. With you.”

“Questions,” Ryou parrots back. A smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he recognizes his own tension in Allura’s posture.

She’s scared, just like him.

“About the movie,” Allura continues. “And what Pidge said. I have experienced her attempts at teasing before, but I wanted your expert opinion on humans.”

“Mhmm.” Ryou forces his expression back into neutrality. “Well, I might not have all the answers. There’s a lot I don’t remember. Horror movies were one of them, and historical stuff was another. But, no, she’s screwing with us.”

“You’re certain?”

Ryou winces. “Mostly.” Then he shakes his head. “Yes. Absolutely. It’s Pidge. She and Matt like joking around.”

Allura nods slowly, her cheek markings shining even brighter. Her eyes fall to her feet, and then she straightens up, as if remembering some ancient lessons on etiquette. “I see. Then I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

She makes no move to leave. Her fingers twist into the bottom of her pajamas.

Ryou smiles and sits down on the now bare bed, patting the spot next to her. “Doesn’t mean we can’t talk. I actually have questions too.” He pauses, scrambling for anything at all he could ask to get Allura talking and keep her around.

It’s silly, but he does feel better now. After all, the girls in the movie survived by working together and looking out for each other. And Allura’s just a force of nature all her own. If anyone could punch a ghost, Ryou bets it would be her.

Allura flashes him a smile and sits down, so close their arms nearly brush. “Of course. I’m happy to answer anything.”

It takes another few seconds for Ryou to put together a semi-intelligent question. “I’ve only ever seen Altean documentaries or story books. Do you guys have movies or TV shows? Video media.”

“Oh!” Allura folds her legs under her, getting comfortable. “We do, somewhat, but not the way humans do. We have hologram projection shows, which are recordings of acting done in a theater.”

Okay, that actually sounds really cool. “I didn’t know that. Do we have any of them on the server?”

“A few, yes. Actually, we have my favorite from when I was a child.” Allura takes a deep breath, like she’s about to launch into a story, then she pauses. “I could show you.”

Ryou hesitates. What they said to Pidge wasn’t a lie - it is late, and it’ll be even later when they finish the play.

But like this, he’s not going to get any sleep. Allura probably won’t either.

Ryou gets up and retrieves his pillow, as well as the extra he has on the desk chair. He gives one to Allura, then pulls his blanket up over both their laps. 

“There,” he says. “Let’s do it. I’m curious.”

Allura gives him a beaming smile. Taking his tablet, she taps around until figures appear in the room. They’re all Altean, and have the slightly see-through quality of a hologram.

Ryou tenses, automatically reacting to people-shaped blobs in his otherwise dark room. But when they speak, it’s dramatic and loud. They make no sudden movements, instead raising their arms grandly.

It’s a play. Actors. Not ghosts. So Ryou settles in.

The story has the quality of a fairytale. There’s old royalty, magic, mythical creatures, and true love. Ryou can definitely understand why Allura would be so enchanted with the story at a young age.

Thankfully, it’s not a long play. By the end, Ryou is still slumped back against the wall, blinking slowly. The silly story has pushed out the worst of his tension, replacing it with goofy sword fights and magic spells.

Allura leans against Ryou’s side, head on his shoulder. She blinks slowly, and her smile is soft and fond. “That was nice. Thank you for watching it with me.”

“Yeah. It’s a go-” Ryou pauses as a yawn stretches his mouth until he can’t speak. “Good story. Fun.” He turns to smile at her. “I won’t tell Pidge you were scared if you don’t tell on me.”

Allura frowns and picks up her head. “I wasn’t-” She pauses, then gives up with a sigh. “Deal.”

That works for Ryou. He shifts, settling in more comfortably against Allura. They’re both sitting up, technically, but he’s comfortable here anyway.

“My alarm goes off early, so you can stay and sneak back before anyone notices if you want.”

Allura chuckles. “If Lance sees us like this, he might explode.”

Oh, true. Ryou shouldn’t laugh - Lance is his best friend, and has been damn good to him. But he can’t help a chuckle anyway. “Probably.”

“Best to avoid that. But thank you. I’d like to stay.” Allura peers up at him, eyes bright blue even in the dark room. “It’s nice not to be alone.”

“Same here.” 

Besides, it’s nice to have someone in the room. Like a sleepover. Ryou’s only ever slept in the same room as his brother, and those have usually been in shitty situations. This is fun. Like having a friend over.

If this is the result of Pidge’s sadistic horror movie urges...

Well, Ryou might be willing to do this again sometime.

That in mind, he closes his eyes and settles in, listening to Allura’s soft breathing.

Ryou falls asleep easily.


	2. Chapter 2

“This,” Hunk says with complete confidence, “is the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”

He peers up at the old building, clutching his tablet to his chest. All of him is tense, and his free hand keeps twitching for his bayard.

In front of them, the elaborate manor house looms. It’s huge, reaching five stories, and built for a species closer in size to the Galra. It was once probably gorgeous, with intricate carvings on the walls and twisted iron decorations. 

Now, it’s fallen into serious disrepair. The windows are bolted over, and many of the decorations have come off, revealing paler patches below. Plantlife creeps up the stone walls, trying to burrow in and take it back over. Part of the roof sags like it’s about to cave in.

Frankly, the place is a mess.

Keith doesn’t even look over, rolling his eyes. “It’s definitely not,” he says. “We do dumber things than walk into a building all the time.”

“They’re usually not  _ haunted!” _

Ryou chuckles, stretching his arms out behind him. “I mean, we survived the castle when it was actually haunted by Sendak. And he’s scarier than most anything you’ll find in a movie.” He pauses, then wrinkles his nose. “I mean you guys did. Not me.”

Hunk flaps away the mistake. “Same difference. But seriously! People have gone missing! Why are we checking it out?”

“Because that’s our job,” Keith says. With that, he pushes the front door.

It creaks open.

“Is it?” Hunk asks, peering in dubiously. “I mean, really, is this our job? Running around to abandoned buildings and begging to be haunted? Because that is not what I signed up for.”

“It’s not haunted,” Ryou reassures. He puts a hand on Hunk’s back, half out of reassurance and half to keep him from bolting. “There’s no ghosts here. It’s probably a holed up Galra occupying the building. Much easier to kill.”

Ryou doesn’t have any doubts about that. This planet was under Galra control until the coalition freed it a few pheobs ago. That would have been that until Voltron came by to do some negotiating. Then they heard the stories from the locals.

Apparently, this had once been the home of a branch of the royal family. They had attempted to buck Galra rule, and been executed in retaliation. Since then, locals report strange noises, figures in the windows, and two disappearances in the neighborhood.

To Ryou, it sounds like some people got spooked (and he has sympathy for that, after Pidge’s little movie). Or, one of the Galra doing the killing decided they liked the house and figured they’d stay.

That’s still not really Voltron’s duty. This should be a job for local law enforcement, or the coalition at most. But talks are going slowly, and the whole team really isn’t needed to sit around a table and discuss details.

So when the subject of this nearby house had come up, Keith had been the first to volunteer. Ryou couldn’t blame him, not when his recent Voltron missions have all been talks-heavy. He probably wants some action.

Ryou is in the same boat. He’s found himself having less and less patience for pomp and circumstances. Getting to poke around an old building, make sure there were no Galra hiding in the closets, and just explore, sounds better than talking.

And Hunk-

Well, mostly Shiro wanted them to take someone with range. Allura was needed for the talks, Pidge was knee-deep in talking tracking software with the planet’s security team, and Lance...

Lance installed himself by the side of the Queen’s youngest, most giggly daughter. He’s been soaking up the attention as he tells her all about Voltron’s exploits.

Originally, Lance was supposed to come along with them. But he’d taken Hunk aside and whispered frantically to him for a few minutes, until Hunk very reluctantly agreed to take his place.

So now, poor Hunk is here, visibly tense as he creeps into the entrance hall.

Whatever Lance promised him must have been  _ good. _

The inside is even more of a mess than the outside. When the Galra came through, they definitely weren’t gentle. 

Picture frames have been ripped off the wall and dropped to the floor, where they’ve gathered dust. There are holes and scratches along the walls, and the furniture is overturned. A chandelier overhead sways from their entrance, the dull metal barely reflecting the sunshine that filters through the door. The carpet gives puffs of dust with each step.

“Eugh,” Ryou mutters, covering his mouth to keep from sneezing. 

He digs a rag out of his pack and uses it to prod the closest picture frame. He flips it over and peers at the subject - it’s a bust of one of the locals, covered in scales, with their mouth open just enough to show the rows of shark-like teeth. Spines run from the top of their head and long their back, strewn with jewels and thin chains. The corner of the painting is ripped and hangs loosely.

Hunk tilts his head to look as well, then gives a moan. “Why do they have creepy paintings too? Why couldn’t it be, like, a field of flowers?”

“It’s just someone’s picture,” Keith points out. He shakes his head and steps in further. “It’s not any creeper than Lance’s selfies. Probably less creepy.”

“Aww, no need to be mean.” Ryou puts down the painting and gives Hunk a pat on the shoulder. He kind of agrees. The painting is stilted and posed in a way that feels unnatural, adding to the unnerving effect.

Keith just shrugs and pulls his blade off his hip. “Come on. We’ve got plenty of rooms to look through.”

Hunk sighs, but obligingly steps forward. He pulls out his tablet, preparing to scan in front of them.

Only for the door to slam firmly shut behind all three of them.

Immediately, Hunk lets out a yelp. He fumbles his tablet, smacking it with his fingers as he tries to save it.

Instead, Ryou leans forward and snags it out of the air. He hands it back to Hunk with a smile. “Careful there.”

Hunk takes it, but doesn’t thank him. Instead, he whirls and jogs to the door. “You see?” He snaps. “I told you this place is haunted!”

“It’s not,” Keith insistes, louder and more annoyed now. “It just swung closed. Look-” He pulls on the handle.

The door doesn’t budge.

Groaning, Hunk presses the tablet against his face. “This is how we die. By ghost. I knew it.”

“We’re not going to die. This place isn’t haunted and there’s no such thing as ghosts!”

Ryou winces. “And quantum imprints, right?”

That distracts both Keith and Hunk. They turn to look at Ryou with equally confused expressions. “Quantum whats?” Hunk asks.

Ryou’s cheeks warm up. He flaps his hands. “Nevermind. Something I heard once. It’s not important. Keith’s right, though. That door is so messed up from when they broke in. The hinges are probably at a weird angle, so it shut itself, and the broken lock latched shut. No big deal. Any of us can break it down with one kick.”

Hunk’s fingers twitch along the side of his tablet. “It’s still weird.” But being given a mechanical cause for the action definitely seems to have resonated - he sits up straighter. “This place is built on an incline, too.”

“Right.” Keith shakes his head. “Come on, the sooner we search this place and kick out any hiding Galra, the sooner we can get out of here.”

Hunk wrinkles his nose and shivers. “Having some Galra soldier hiding out here, waiting for us isn’t really better,” he mutters. But he obligingly lifts his tablet and holds it up to scan.

After a few seconds, the tablet beeps. It shows a dot - the sign of a lifeform - in the floors above.

Then, a moment later, it disappears.

Hunk stares at it, then picks his head up, complexion ashen. “Um.”

“It might have picked up something outside the house?” Ryou offers, though he frowns at the tablet. They should have seen movement when it was active, if that was the case.

Keith eyes them both. “Or someone heard the door open and close and used some sort of cloaking.”

“Oh, yes, that’s even better. Invisible Galra. I feel much better now.” Hunk scowls at him, then shoves his tablet into his bag. He grips his bayard tightly in one hand. “I’m really not a fan of this, guys.”

“We know,” Keith says tiredly. “Look, what can a ghost or whatever even do to you? Or just one Galra? We find them, we kick their ass and be done with it. No matter what, these people didn’t deserve to be offed and then have their killers living in their house.” He gestures widely around them.

Hunk’s lips press thin and he nods. “Yeah. You’re right.” He straightens up and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Well, they were up and to the left. I couldn’t tell what floor they were on that fast, so we’ll just have to keep looking.”

With that, they continue down the hall. It was lined with doors, all of which have either been knocked open or sport nasty claw marks into the wood.

At the end, they come to a huge staircase, nearly ten feet wide. It splits into two sections, both spiraling up to the second floor, then up again to the third and fourth floors.

“We’ll get through this faster if we split up,” Keith says, already heading up the steps.

Ryou winces as he follows. The stairs are wood, with decorative fabric over top. They creak alarmingly under each step - damaged rather than rotting. “I’m not comfortable with that. Not when there’s a cloaked opponent. Too easy for them to pick us off while we can’t see them.”

Hunk bobs his head in agreement. “Safety in numbers, right?”

Eyeing them both, Keith presses his lips thin. Clearly, he’s trying to assess if they’re just scared.

(Fair enough: Ryou kind of  _ is. _ But that doesn’t make his logic less sound.)

“Alright,” Keith says, shrugging. “Don’t be surprised if this takes all day.” He continues up, taking the left fork.

Once up onto the second floor, they hang a left. Ryou grows more tense automatically as they creep through the halls. It’s impossible to stay stealthy - the floor here creaks almost as much as the stairs. 

The possibility of being watched - of being stalked - sets off all kinds of alarms in Ryou’s head. Ancient prey instincts, ripped from Shiro’s thoughts during Arena battles and downloaded into his own mind.

One by one, they check the rooms, scanning carefully for any sign of recent habitation. There’s a bathroom, a linen closet, a coat room-

A child’s playroom.

Ryou winces as they peer through, growing more and more discomforted. All the rooms have been ransacked, but there’s still so many signs of life. The playroom in particular still has toys strewn around the floor. What looks like a half-finished puzzle still sits on the table, though some pieces have fallen off and rest under the chair. The walls were once colorful, but dust on the window dulls the light and gives it a grey cast.

“Nothing here,” Keith says, nodding to the floor. There’s dust along the floor, but no sign of footsteps. Nor is there an easy path through the toys, or any sign that someone had been moving through since they were left.

“Yeah,” Hunk says, voice tight. “Let’s go.” 

He turns and moves to the door across the hall, the last on the second floor. It hangs from the top most hinges, barely clinging to the frame. From the way the door handle is lopsided, it was probably hit hard enough to knock it out of place.

Expression tight, Hunk uses his foot to gently nudge the door open. It creaks as it goes, a prolonged, high pitched noise.

Inside is a child’s room.

Ryou wouldn’t be able to guess age, due to his unfamiliarity with the local species. But it’s clearly for a kid. There are paintings on the wall, drawn simply with a shaky hand, then hung with pride. There are toys here too, peeking out from under the bed or strewn over the counters. There’s a book on the bedside table with big, friendly block letters and a cartoonishly simple figure.

Then there’s the bed. Unmade, with bright blue covers. Too short for any of the humans, except maybe Keith.

In the middle of the sheets, visible from the pulled back covers, there’s a dark brown stain. It covers much of the bed, the bottom half of the pillows, and splattered over the wall.

Hunk claps a hand over his mouth and steps back, eyes wide.

Ryou puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, ignoring the way his own stomach sinks.

He knows damn well how much blood that is. A full grown human couldn’t lose that much blood and live. Much less...

Keith swallows audibly, then creeps forward. His expression is tight, uncomfortable, but he keeps his blade in hand as he moves closer. 

Right. Checking for any Galra. Clearly, they’ve been here.

But they might not have stayed. Why would they stick in a children’s room? Someone has been here, but it was probably whoever had investigated after the murders. Clearly, they had taken the body. Ryou’s thankful for that, at least.

Ryou moves forward as well, prepared to prod any corners or where someone invisible might be hiding. Behind him, Hunk shifts, preparing to use his bayard for back-up.

_ “Look out!” _

The voice is unfamiliar and tiny, high pitched. 

Ryou whirls, heart pounding in his throat.

Just in time to hear a set of heavy footsteps running past the door, making a break for the stairs.

“There!” Ryou calls. “They’re getting away!”

Keith sprints forward, faster than Ryou despite his forewarning. Ryou and Hunk follow, close on his tail, as they try to catch the disembodied footsteps.

Ryou loses track, the noise lost among the sounds of their own sprinting, but Keith doesn’t seem to have that problem. He keeps up his pace, racing straight for the farther right of the two staircases, taking them two at a time.

Until his foot comes down on one step in particular. It splinters with an ear-splitting crack, as does the stair below it. The wood falls.

So does Keith.

He hits the stairs below hard, tumbling down them on impact. He gives a low, pained groan and struggles to sit up.

Ryou comes to a stop where the hole ends, gripping the banister with one hand. The other automatically grabs the back of Hunk’s armor, in case either of them fall next. “Keith! Are you alright?”

There’s a low curse. “Fine!” Keith snaps, though his voice is rough and pained. “Don’t lose them!”

Okay, except Keith just fell 12 feet, landed on stairs, and rolled down them like a doll. Ryou’s not exactly comfortable leaving him to possibly internally bleed until he passes out or something.

Hunk makes a face, clearly thinking along the same lines. “I’ll go check on him,” he says. “You keep going. You’re faster.” He shoves the yellow bayard into Ryou’s hands.

Considering they’d just decided not to split up, that’s not an attractive prospect. But it’s one cloaked Galra, and Keith definitely needs to be looked over. So Ryou nods. “Be careful.”

“It’s me,” Hunk replies, giving a wane smile. He turns and picks his way back down the stairs, far more carefully than on the way up. “Don’t move, Keith!”

“Wasn’t really-” Keith grunts, then lets out a huff. “-planning on it.”

Ryou would feel better checking over Keith himself, but he trusts Hunk to look after him.

Which leaves the chasing to him.

Rather than double back or trust the obviously damaged stairs, Ryou grabs onto the banister, which has survived much better. He climbs up the frame like a rope course, and checks the strength of the floor carefully before stepping off.

There’s two more floors, and now he doesn’t know if their target is on the left or the right. He doesn’t have Keith’s sensitive hearing, so he couldn’t tell what way the Galra had gone or if they’d continued up.

...Assuming it’s a Galra.

Because Ryou heard that voice. That high pitched, whispered warning. It was right before the footsteps ran away. But why would the Galra, or anyone working with them, have warned him when they might have gotten away?

Shaking his head, Ryou picks right, just because he’s hoping whoever-it-was instinctively ran the opposite direction they’d come. Once again, he pushes open each door, looking for signs of disruption. The figure had been running, so there should be some sign of a trail.

This set of rooms looks immaculate, rather than the comfortable chaos of the child’s wing. First is a small coat room, which is completely empty. Then one of the fanciest bathrooms Ryou has ever seen, followed by a storage room filled with boxes.

Unfortunately, the lack of life also makes it harder to pick up a trail. If the figure came this way, Ryou has no way of telling unless he sees a footprint, something knocked over, or literally runs into them.

Finally, there’s one room left. Gripping the bayard tight, Ryou steps inside.

Then he groans.

This is a  _ ballroom. _ It’s huge, the ceiling rising up into what would have been the fourth floor. A series of several elaborate chandeliers dangle delicately from above. There are no windows, leaving the room very dimly lit, but Ryou can just barely make out the walls. They’re covered in mirrors that reach halfway up the carved walls, encircling the entire room.

Otherwise, the room is completely empty. The light brown wood panelling doesn’t show dust well, especially in the gloom.

Which means the figure could hide out in a corner while Ryou stumbles around, and neatly avoid ever being run into.

Shit.

Ryou takes a deep breath, still looking around. Then he taps his helmet, engaging the comms. “How are you two doing?”

“Fine,” Keith says, though it comes out breathier than normal.

“Either Keith is absurdly lucky or he’s made of stone,” Hunk replies flatly. “I really can’t say which.”

Keith huffs, but it’s not nearly as irritated as usual. “I’m going to vote against lucky.”

“I dunno, you didn’t break your neck. That’s pretty lucky.” There’s a dull thumping noise, probably Hunk patting Keith on the shoulder. “He should stay sitting for a bit, but I can join you.”

Keith makes a noise from the back of his throat. “I’m fine. I can help.”

“How about you hang out where you are and make sure they don’t backtrack while we’re searching?” Ryou offers, biting back a smile. The situation is frustrating, but there’s something comforting about the team being  _ themselves. _

There’s a pause, then Keith sighs. “Yeah. I haven’t heard them try and come back down. I’ll hang out on the third floor and keep an ear out.”

“I took the right side,” Ryou says. “Hunk, you can either look left, or help me out here. There’s a huge-”

The already dim lights go out.

Ryou pauses, all of him going tese. He whirls, but the shadow isn’t the result of the light being blocked. It’s simply  _ gone, _ like his vision turned itself turned off. Even the dim lights of the armor have stopped.

Then, the ballroom lights back up. But more than before - the chandeliers are lit, casting the room in flickering warm tones.

Now, there are people. The same species as the locals, lizard-like and tall. Unlike the red and brown tones Ryou has seen thus far, they’re dull greys and pales blues. 

They swirl around the ballroom in sets of three, none of them paying any attention to Ryou. Each of them wear fancy robes and dresses, the fabric flowing with their movement.

In the mirrors-

The mirrors show a completely different scene. All the same beings stand, banging on the glass as if they’re trying to escape. Their fancy clothes are tattered and stained with dark brown - dried blood - and their eyes are hollow and dark.

They yell, screaming at Ryou. He can’t understand them - the translator is doing nothing. But he can read the panic and pain in their faces.

_ Help, _ they say.  _ Save us. _

Ryou backs away, shaking his head. He steps into one of the whirling sets, but they vanish like mist around him. They reform on the other side of him, continuing on as if nothing has changed.

“-you?”

The noise gets louder. Ryou can barely hear it, though, his pulse pounding in his throat. He reaches up and covers his ears, but it does nothing to stop the din.

“Ryou, what wr-?”

It’s all more noise, creating a crescendo that robs Ryou of his ability to think. His breathing comes in ragged pants and he backs up again, just trying to get  _ away. _

Then, something different catches his eye. A still figure amongst the chaos, smaller than the rest. Barely coming up to the waist of the others, dressed in a much simpler robe.

The child waves to him and jumps up when his eyes snap onto him. Then they point, flapping a hand in a circle.

It takes Ryou a second to realize they mean  _ turn around. _

He does, just in time to see a dark shape materialize behind him. The size of a Galra, yes, but not the shape, not technically - he sees a large hood, with shadows hiding the face. Thick robes that drape to the floor. Crackling hands.

A druid.

Working on pure instinct, Ryou ducks and rolls on the slick floor. He has to scramble to catch himself, just as there’s a terrifyingly loud shattering noise.

When Ryou looks up, the ballroom is dark again, and the figures are gone. The mirrors are falling to pieces, right where the child had been.

The druid still stands, long, twisted hands out, robes flapping from the sharpness of their movement. 

An illusion. Something twisted and magic to distract him long enough to be killed.

But the druid’s attack had broken it - or maybe they simply couldn’t use two kinds of magic at once. Either way, they’d missed.

Ryou doesn’t.

He charges forward, the bayard forming into a clawed gauntlet around his hand. He slices down into the druid’s back. The robes tear, and there’s a splash of hot blood that drips down onto the slick floor.

The druid flickers and then disappears.

“Shit!” Ryou swipes again and only catches air. “Come back here you fucking-”

Heavy footsteps enter the room. Ryou whirls, claw brandished and teeth bared, but the familiar shapes of Hunk and Keith still his attack.

“Ryou!” Hunk calls. “What happened? You suddenly went quiet, and-” He winces at the sight of blood. “You got them?”

“They got me,” Ryou grumbles back. “The Galra hiding here is a druid. They’re using their magic to make the place look haunted. Used it to freak me out and try and get me.”

“Are you okay?” Keith asks. He’s favoring his left side and is still breathing heavily, but his expression is only concerned.

Truth Keith to fall down stairs and want to know if someone else is okay.

“Fine,” Ryou says. “I noticed them sneaking up on me. Got them instead.”

He doesn’t say how, but he does glance back. There’s no sign of the child in the mirror now. It would be hard to tell, anyway, now that the room is dim again.

“They... teleported, I think. Or just vanished. I don’t know where they went.”

Hunk frowns. “If they could teleport out of the house, they would have done it when we didn’t know they were here, right?”

“It’s too light outside, and this is a busy area,” Keith says flatly. “They probably can get out, they just don’t want to get spotted.”

So they’re still in the house, probably. That at least helps. And if they try that shit again, Ryou will be prepared.

“I’ll stay by the stairs like we said,” Keith says, straightening up. He winces, but not badly enough that Ryou fears his injuries require immediate evacuation. “If they can teleport, they probably don’t need to use them. But they used to when they were running, so they might again. I have the best chance of hearing them.”

“And we’ll go look,” Hunk says. His voice is firm, without a hint of the shake from before. Instead, his expression is hard, his jaw set. Either having answers has done him good, or he’s just so pissed off that his friends are hurt that he doesn’t care anymore.

Either way, Ryou is glad to hear it.

“Let’s finish off the top two floors,” Ryou says. “With Keith on the stairs, we can eliminate floors again.”

“Well, at least you made them easier to track.” Hunk nods to the puddle on the floor.

Oh, right. Blood. That usually does leave a trail.

Ryou smiles, all teeth and fire. “I think it’s time we show them how it really feels to be hunted down.”

Hunk and Ryou go through the third floor, slow and careful. There’s no sign of blood either on the rooms near the ballroom, or the other side.

The whole time, Ryou keeps an ear out, either for footsteps or for that small voice.

Nothing. Now whispered warnings, no child in the mirrors.

Ryou’s stomach sinks. Whatever was going on, he hopes the druid didn’t hurt them. Maybe the attack hadn’t been for him at all? He’d been able to dodge easily. Maybe the druid was trying to kill them instead.

Ryou remembers enough slaughtered children. Given the chance, he’d go back and take that blast. It’s the least he can do, considering-

Well, not his memories. Not something he’d ask of Shiro, not ever.

But even so, Ryou can remember the dark splatter of a child’s blood on the arena ground. He can remember the cold resolution - he would survive, even given the most dire of costs.

Shivering, he shakes his head and focuses. Ryou and Hunk finish up the third floor and head up to the fourth, nodding to Keith as they pass.

The right side of the floor seems to be servants quarters. There are several small rooms, as well as a larger, communal bathroom and a little kitchen and dining room. Again, there are signs of life that have been abandoned, and several of the rooms have more dark splotches.

Hunk grabs onto Ryou’s wrist and holds tightly. Ryou leans into him for comfort, even as they check for fresh blood splatter.

The right side has a small personal library and another study, then a sizeable living room. Comfortable, cozy, abandoned. No sign of blood.

And that’s the end of the fourth floor.

Something tickles at the back of Ryou’s neck. It feels off, and he can’t quite figure out why. Instead, he tenses, keeping a sharp eye out. Maybe that’s the feeling of the druid closing in on them.

But Hunk frowns at the end of the hallway, his brow furrowed tightly. “Hey, Ryou?”

“Hm?”

“Did you ever see a master bedroom?”

...No. No, he hadn’t.

Finally, the odd feeling clicked. Ryou glanced back at the hallway, then back to Hunk. “Didn’t the other floors have more rooms on the left side?”

Hunk’s eyes shone. “They did.” He bit his bottom lip.

Then reached out to touch the wall.

His fingers passed through.

Immediately, Hunk snatched them back, as if the wall would cut them off. He clutched his hand to his chest, even as he reached out to take the yellow bayard back from Ryou.

“Well, this explains why they were able to hide out when the place was cleared of bodies,” Ryou says flatly. “Ready?”

“No,” Hunk says. But he sets his jaw and gives Ryou a nod.

Together, they step through.

The first thing that hits Ryou is the smell. Whatever spell the druid is using must also help slow airflow, because this section has the stale scent of a room closed off for too long. Below that is the stink of rotten food.

The second thing Ryou notices is the trail of blood leading from a few feet ahead of them into the next room on the right.

Next to him, Hunk visibly gags. But he swallows hard and they share a silent nod before creeping closer.

The door is mostly closed, though it remains open a crack - the druid likely stumbled in and just shoved it rather than shut it properly.

Still moving silently, Ryou pushes it open.

There’s immediately a crack of energy.

Ryou gets his arm up, engaging the armor’s shield before he can even fully register the sound. Energy smacks into it, enough to make the shield flicker and then go out. The remaining force slams into Ryou, knocking him back into Hunk.

Luckily, Hunk is made of sturdy stuff. He takes Ryou’s impact, barely rocking with the force, then fires off into the room blindly.

The blast barely misses the robed figure, instead smashing into the far wall. A painting shatters apart and falls to pieces, and the carvings in the wood wall are completely blasted off.

Inside, the rotten food smell is worse. A portion of the floor has what looks like old scraps of food and a couple of small, picked apart creatures. The druid was likely eating what was left in the kitchen, and then resorted to any animals it could catch after.

The wall to their left has one huge, dark bloodstain on the carpet, long since dried up. Another one splatters half on the floor, half on the wall right next to the bed, which is unmade and looks recently slept in.

Before Ryou can do more than straighten up and take in the room, the druid spreads their hands wide. He sets himself into a defensive posture, ready to dodge - 

Only for the room to go dark again.

“ _ Shit,” _ Ryou hisses. “This is the illusion-”

His words are cut off when his vision returns.

There’s one of the local being’s face, just two inches from his own. Their eyes are hollow, their skin rotten, their mouth hanging open. They let out a rattle, like something thick and congealed is in their throat and lungs. The stench is absolutely horrific.

Ryou gags and tries to yank away, totally forgetting the gao. He just needs this thing out of his face.

But the being latches on, clawed fingers grabbing on either side of Ryou’s head. They moan out in his face, pained and furious.

Just behind him, Hunk lets out a  _ scream.  _ He fires again, more wild than before, and blasts straight through half of the bed. The noise and scent of burning only add to the chaos.

Ryou activates his arm and jabs it out. His hand goes  _ through _ the being latched onto him, coming out sticky and dripping in dark ooze on the other side. The thing only continues to moan, unaffected. Ryou turns off the arm in sheer alarm.

There’s the sound of footsteps, then a crackle.

The images vanish.

Ryou starts to move, but he’s not as fast as Hunk. Big hands grab onto Ryou’s upper arms and yank him down to the ground, just in time for the energy to crash over their heads and impact the hallway in a flash.

“I hate this,” Hunk says, low and with incredible feeling. “I hate this  _ so much.” _

Yeah, whatever Lance offered him had better be really, really fucking good.

“Where are you guys?” Keith demands over the comms. “Come on, answer!”

“Fourth floor.” Ryou pushes himself up to one knee, preparing to dive yet again at the druid - who, during the last illusion, had moved closer and to the left. They aren’t staying still, so attacking while they can’t see reality is going to be tough. “Left. Go through-”

Another being appears in front of Ryou, dead and bloated.

This time, it’s  _ Keith. _

Immediately, Ryou’s throat catches with a fear more profound than before. He drops his arm, both in shock and a well-trained instinct not to attack his teammates and friends.

No. He just heard- Keith was talking before, he was fine, and-

Keith (not Keith) grips at his chest, which drips the same dark ooze the beings before had. There’s a hole, just where Ryou had jabbed through the previous illusion (he knows it’s an illusion.)

Keith speaks, but it’s not English, nor anything else Ryou understands. Still, his face is twisted in pain and rage, the accusation clear.  _ You did this. _

He didn’t- Ryou hadn’t- Keitih is-

“No!” Hunk cries out, furious and terrified. He fires one more time, this time toward the back corner where the food remains are.

Most of the blast hits the wall, blasting out a window, which doesn’t let in any more light.

But some of it catches a figure, the heat and light casting them in silhouette. They stumble, which pushes the hood up. Below is a Galra, gaunt, furless, with yellow eyes and sharp ears. They stare at the pair of them in desperate fury.

Then they vanish. So does the illusion.

“Did they teleport?” Hunk hisses. He’s shaking, badly enough that he’s having trouble holding up his bayard. His dark skin has gone ashen. “Where-”

“I don’t-”

Ryou pauses as he spots movement. He immediately snaps his focus onto the spot.

It’s not the druid. It’s a mirror.

Inside, rather than their reflection, is the child. Their eyes are wide, tears unashamedly running down their scaled cheeks. Both of their tiny hands are pressed flat to the mirror, as if trying to climb out.

When they catch Ryou’s eye, they point frantically to the center right.

Ryou swallows, then  _ leaps. _

He hits something invisible.

The force of him takes the druid to the ground. They twist, trying to get away, but Ryou stubbornly wraps himself around their waist. He wants to activate his arm, but he can’t do it without burning himself. If he lets go with either arm, they’ll get away, and he can’t give them the chance to teleport for real.

Luckily, Ryou isn’t alone. Because a shadow comes close, and then Hunk whips his bayard gun around, smacking the huge thing into the side of the druid’s head.

Good way to get around the fear of blasting Ryou.

The druid stumbles, letting out a hiss of pain. They try to blast Hunk back, but Ryou twists and yanks himself to the side, which screws up their aim enough that they hit the wall.

Hunk drops the bayard completely. It reverts before it even hits the ground. Instead, he grabs onto one wrist, then the other. He steps around the druid in a smooth arm lock that would make Shiro proud.

It also means they’re both trying to hold the druid back from casting magic and escaping, rather than actually fighting the bastard.

“Keith!” Ryou calls, voice shaking slightly. The vision of his friend’s rotted face still sits heavily in his mind, but he  _ knows _ it was an illusion. “Go through the wall!”

Then, thank fuck, footsteps run into the room.

Keith doesn’t even pause. He continues to run through the door, taking in the situation in half a second. Without hesitation, he draws his blade, activates it, and swings.

Ryou flinches, unable to help it when he sees that sword arc down toward him. Behind him, Hunk sucks in a breath.

But neither of them needed to worry. The blade slices cleanly through the druid, avoiding both Ryou and Hunk with ease.

Ryou suddenly lists forward as the resistance vanishes. He keeps his grip, but slams forward into the ground. He blinks, focusing on what he’s holding, and realizes it’s only the legs and hips of the druid.

“Eugh!” Hunk drops the torso and head, gagging again. It hits the ground with a sick, wet noise, and he gags again. “Oh, gross.”

“Sorry,” Keith says, honestly contrite. He’s gripping his side, breathing raggedly and holding his sword with his other hand. “I wanted to make sure they’d die in one hit.”

“You definitely managed that.” Ryou shudders and picks himself up, taking a big step back from the severed legs. “You, uh, you’re good?”

“I could use a sit down,” Keith admits. “But we’re done. Right?”

“I’m done,” Hunk says, holding up both his hands. He grabs the yellow bayard and holds it close like a stuffed animal. “I’m so done. This place can be haunted for all I care. We did our part.”

“It’s not-” Keith shakes his head. “You know what? Fair enough. Let’s go.” With that, he steps out. Hunk goes over to help support him as they make their way out.

The false hallway end is gone, and the rest of the building is empty. Ryou keeps an eye out for any more mirrors or voices, but doesn’t see anything.

For the best. He doesn’t really want to think too deeply about what he’s seen recently. Illusion or... possibly not illusion.

Even so, Ryou finds himself glancing back at the house as they leave. This time, the door opens without issue - another druid trick to knock them off guard.

As they walk down the path toward the main street, Ryou looks up, eyes instinctively snapping onto the fourth floor, far left. Just in case he sees the druid again.

Instead, he sees a different shape. Smaller, reptile-esque. From the distance, they’re only a shape, but he sees the tiny hand wave as if in goodbye.

Ryou, blinking rapidly, gives a wave back.

If a shadow could smile, he thinks they would.

“Ryou?”

“Coming,” he replies, turning to give Hunk a smile. “Just keeping an eye out. In case.”

“Paranoid,” Hunk says, shaking his head. But he makes no more comment, instead keeping pace with Keith’s determined stride.

Ryou, despite the injuries, despite the scares, smiles. Somehow, he feels lighter than when he entered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Velkyn for the clever song choice!

“How much farther?” Shiro asks.

The question could easily have been a complaint instead of simple clarification. Ryou, for one, certainly feels like complaining. He’s trudging along at the rear of the paladins as they all inch their way along a terrifyingly narrow rocky ledge, easily fifty feet off the ground.

As far as mountain climbing experiences go? Not the best impression, really.

Pidge holds up her wrist and projects a screen, checking. “Half a mile.”

“So basically forever,” Lance says. The wording is a joke, but his tone is grim. His fingers try to grip at the sheer cliff next to them. Instead, it crumbles away and showers over his feet, then off the ledge next to them..

This whole section of the planet is like that. As if some giant, cosmic child had formed these mountains and valleys in their sandbox. Too much pressure and the whole thing falls apart.

What the Galra are doing here, Ryou has no fucking clue. All he knows is that the base ahead is a transmission point for all kinds of communications - including top secret ones. If they can get inside, the team (or, well, Pidge) can go nuts with that data.

Which is good. Ryou has some pretty personal reasons to want top secret Galra Empire data.

The problem is getting there. They could go in using the lions or the castle, but it’s entirely too possible for the Galra to wipe their servers before anyone can get inside. So subtle is the name of the game.

Subtle also means tip-toeing their way around these stupid mountains in the dead of night. So not only are they all on edge - very literally, at the moment - but they’re tired.

Ryou might be cranky, too. But sarcasm is also his default state, these days, so it’s hard to say.

Hunk steps forward, then winces as a spray of sand tumbles down the cliff. The tiny rocks catch others, so by the time they all hit the ground it’s a mini landslide. He swallows hard as he watches the rocks disappear into the dark below. “At this rate it’s going to be daylight by the time we get there.”

Pressing his lips thin, Keith nods. “It’s either keep going or head back,” he points out grimly. “At this point, we’re closer to the base than the castle.”

“It’s not that far down, either,” Allura says. Her tone is kind, even if her words are dismissive. When she pats Hunk’s back, he stiffens instinctively. Even that gentle pressure makes his feet shift on the sandy ground. “The armor can take that damage without issue.”

“The problem is that we’re still inside it,” Ryou says. “You don’t get a concussion by breaking through the skull. It’s because your brain bounces around inside. It’s, what, a fifty foot drop?”

Allura makes a throaty noise and tries to turn back to look at him. Her foot starts to slip, and she focuses again. “Is that how your heads work? How do you all  _ survive?” _

“This isn't helping,” Shiro says, tone lowering authoritatively. He shoots a flat look over his shoulder before focusing on his feet again.

Ryou doesn’t bother to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at Shiro’s back. No one is looking at him anyway.

“Can we not talk about falling?” Lance asks. “Or concussions, or armor survivability. Let’s talk about, like, the plan?”

“We get in, we get to a computer console, we kill anyone who tries to stop us,” Pidge recites blandly. She steps carefully, toe to heel, over and over, like a tightrope walker. One hand sticks out, presumably for balance. “That work for you?”

“It’s a little vague, but it’ll do.”

Shiro nods firmly. “This shouldn’t be a highly populated base, and it’s fairly small. I’m confident we can manage this without trouble, so long as we don’t give ourselves away too early.”

“So don’t nearly die,” Ryou adds, all false cheery and toothy smiles. “Because the lions trying to save you would be inconvenient for the plan.”

Shiro gives a heavy sigh but doesn’t even turn his head around. 

As if he has room to talk, with his sense of humor. He just turns it off when he’s in Mission Leader Mode.

“Will do,” Hunk says, utterly flat, but there is at least a flicker of a smile from the joke. None of them are especially chipper at the moment, but the constant sarcasm is at least better than bland stoicism. Or, at least, it’s better at keeping them all awake and engaged.

Even so, the group does fall into silence again. It just takes too much concentration to keep their footing on the narrow ledge. The width varies between two and three feet wide, but if they get too close to the edge it threatens to fall away completely.

Maybe Pidge’s tight-walker method has more merit than Ryou thought.

There’s a loud, echoing clang that rings through the mountains. The whole team freezes in place.

Ryou holds his breath on sheer instinct, trying to determine the source of the sound. Is there someone nearby? Have they been spotted?

No, the sound was too distant for that, despite how well they could hear it. Ryou strains up on his tip-toes, trying to see over both Hunk and Shiro,

Ahead of them, nestled in a dark valley and just barely visible in the gloom, is the Galra base. Only the vague, pentagon shape of it can be seen, along with a series of tiny lights like flickering stars.

Except there are new lights, now. Several of them, clustered along the ground just next to the base.

“Looks like we’ve been spotted,” Allura says grimly. She reaches up, instinctively pressing her fingers against her helmet as if to activate her comms. “Coran, bring-”

“Wait.” Keith holds up a hand and glances back over his shoulder. His brow is furrowed in thought, and his eyes have a very faint glow to them - like a predator’s iris reflecting light to see in the dark. “That’s not a search party. That’s-”

A rumble begins, low and loud enough to echo in Ryou’s chest. Around them, sand shakes loose off the mountain and rains down over the team.

He knows that noise.

It’s not a weapon charging. It’s an engine revving.

Pidge ducks behind Shiro’s larger bulk, then brings up her screen once the light won’t be seen. “Just a scheduled launch. They dropped off supplies yesterday.”

“You could see that?” Lance asks, eyes narrowed at Keith.

Keith shrugs. “I have good vision.”

“Little more than that,” Hunk says, holding up two fingers just an inch apart. “I mean, your eyes are glowing and all. Like a cat.”

Keith pauses, then frowns and turns back. “Really?”

“Yes,” Shiro says, without looking to check. “They’ve always done that.”

“Huh.” Keith cocks his head, then shrugs. “Well, whatever. All that matters is that we can keep going.”

“Well, good thing we took so long to get this far,” Pidge says. “If we’d gotten there any faster, it would have been in the middle of the launch, when everyone is up and paying attention.”

“Let’s be careful that they’ve gone to bed when we approach,” Shiro adds. “Stay close to the wall for now. We don’t want to be spotted during-”

Before he can finish, there’s suddenly two bright lights. Even at this distance, it illuminates the valley and the surrounding rock faces enough that, for a second, it’s as easy to see as daytime.

Then, with a roar, the ship takes off, near completely vertically. It rises up quickly and, once it’s just over the top of the mountains, it engages full blasters. With a lurch, it vanishes past the atmosphere.

A second later, delayed by air resistance, there’s an ear-shatteringly loud  _ crack. _

Ryou has just enough time to think  _ ‘oh shit’ _ before the shockwave shakes loose a waterfall of sand.

There’s no way to duck or protect themselves from the spray. All they can do is press themselves against the cliff next to them and brace as they’re showered by sand and rocks.

Ryou twists and ducks his head, feeling the deluge pelt over his helmet, shoulders and back. Each individual piece wouldn’t be heavy, but together they build up and weight him down. Each hits with a crack, like hail on a window.

The sand collects on Ryou’s shoulders and bounces its way under his helmet. He holds his breath, but his mouth is still dry and full of the taste of dust. It grows heavy, building up until it feels like it’s going to encase his head.

Instinctively, Ryou shakes his shoulders and head, the way a dog might shake off water. He adjusts his weight, meaning he steps back without thinking the action through-

The back of his heel hits the already loose edge of the cliff.

It gives out.

Ryou grips for the nearest surface, but his fingers only dig into more sand. It breaks away as he lists backward over the gaping darkness of the valley below.

Lance is the closest, but he’s not looking over until he hears Ryou’s gasp. He reaches out, but when he tries to step closer, the already weakened ledge crumbles under his weight as well.

Ryou would like to say he does a risk-benefit calculation. That there was a decision at that moment.

But it’s not true. Ryou doesn’t think. He just kicks against Lance’s chestplate, forcing him back against the wall before he can pitch down into the darkness. The force also sends him farther back, away from the cliff and into the air.

Then, he’s falling.

Through his helmet’s comms, Ryou can hear the gasps and cries as clearly as if the team were right in front of him. He can see the peaks of the sandy mountains, glimpses of the night sky, and the hole in the clouds where that damn Galra ship broke through. There are two moons above - lumpy and misshapen. This planet’s gravity isn’t enough to make them round.

“Ryou!”

“He pushed me, I couldn’t-”

“I can climb down, just let me-”

“Oh, why did he say that about the armor before?”

Then, sense reasserts itself.

Ryou rocks himself up as best he can, twisting his knees to his chest until he’s at least somewhat vertical. Then he activates his jetpack at full power.

He jerks, as painful and jarring as if he’d reached the end of an invisible tether. Ryou grunts, his folded legs snapping down as momentum takes them over. His vision jolts as his neck snaps down, then up.

Ryou blinks, reorienting himself. He has enough time to look down and see that the light of his jetpack has illuminated the rocky ground below.

He can also see that it’s only a few feet below him.

Ryou hits the ground legs first. His whole body crumples together, limbs a tangle, vision going white. He feels himself tumble, but he can’t tell what parts of him are hitting the ground and which are hitting his limbs and which are just feeling the end of momentum.

Eventually, his dizzying roll comes to a stop. Ryou finds himself crumpled on his side, face pressed into sand. His helmet visor is ruined, with spiderweb cracks visibly running through the glass. He hears noise, but it’s mostly static, interspersed with sounds that are nearly voices.

He’s disoriented. Dazed.

He’s really going to fucking hurt in a second.

“Ow,” Ryou says. He spits out sand, and makes a face when he sees it’s darker than the ground below. Ugh. Yeah, he tastes metal. He probably bit his tongue or something on the way down. I

The staticy noises get louder. Ryou winces, because that’s just unpleasant. “Can you guys hear me?” He asks.

If there’s an answer, Ryou can’t tell. It’s all just crackling.

Okay, he’s going to have to do this the hard way, and hope his voice doesn’t travel, say, half a mile forward to where there might be listening Galra. Ones who might very much enjoy a pre-defeated Paladin prisoner.

“Can anyone hear me?” Ryou calls, louder this time. He tries to pick his head up and, yup, there’s that pain. It shocks through him, making him wince.

But, hey, all of him hurts. That means he didn’t lose any parts or feeling. That’s pretty good, right?

Silver linings. He’ll take ‘em where he can.

“Ryou!” Shiro calls back, echoing eerily. If they’d shouted the same word, Ryou wouldn’t have been able to tell if it was his own voice coming back. “Are you hurt?”

“Guess!” Ryou snaps back, because, really?

There’s a mumble that Ryou can just barely hear, probably someone’s amused response. But it wasn’t shouted down, so he can’t make it out.

“I’m coming down,” Shiro says. “Hold on.”

Ah, hell. “No!” Ryou winces, then slowly pushes himself up. His whole body aches. He recalls the term ‘like being hit by a truck’, and that definitely seems to fit right now. But nothing is giving out or preventing him from moving. 

“What do you mean, ‘no?’” Lance calls back, voice strangled.

Ah, man. He’s probably not going to be very happy that Ryou shoved him back rather than, like, take his hand or something more reasonable. They’ll have to deal with that soon.

Preferably when Ryou doesn’t feel like he’s been a giant’s punching bag.

Slowly, Ryou climbs to his feet. All of him protests the movement, but he’s felt worse. Specifically, crashing a Galra cruiser into an icy planet was worse, and he managed to walk miles in sub-zero temperatures like that. 

His left leg is definitely weaker than the right, his knee creaking alarmingly. His left shoulder also throbs with his heartbeat. But he can move. The rest is manageable.

“I can walk!” Ryou shouts up. “I’ll head back to the castle. You guys finish up.”

There’s a long pause. This time, Ryou can’t hear muttering, but he imagines there’s a conversation going on. His helmet practically hisses to him, but it distorts the words too much to make out.

“Are you certain?” Allura calls down. “One of us can easily come down to you.”

Easily. Sure. Even with jetpacks, that isn’t an simple hop, and climbing is out no matter what Shiro says. There’s no hand- or footholds in loose sand.

Besides, even in a quiet base, they need all hands on deck.There’s no way for Ryou to scramble up and join them at the moment. Even if he could meet them at the base, he’s in no shape to fight. He’d be a liability.

That’s already one fighter down. They don’t need more.

“I’m good,” Ryou says, cupping his hand in a vain attempt to focus the sound. “It’s just a walk, and I don’t have to worry about any more ledges. I’m a big boy, I can walk myself home. Even in the dark.”

Another pause. This time, Ryou can just barely make out Shiro and Lance’s voices. Neither of them sound happy.

Well, neither is Ryou. They can live with it.

“Be careful,” Hunk calls. He’s clearly reluctant, but they know Ryou is right. 

“I will,” Ryou replies. “Tell Coran to keep an eye out for me, okay? My suit’s busted, I can’t call him.” With his helmet on the fritz, he’s not sure how well he can even be tracked. Now that he knows the armor better, he knows there’s a few sensors, but the one in the helmet is the strongest.

Besides, the rest of his armor took a beating too. Who’s to say anything works?

“We will,” Keith calls. “We can’t hear you either. If you get in trouble, find a safe place to wait. Worse comes to worse, we’ll send Hunk and Yellow out.”

“Sounds good. You stay safe too!” Ryou gives them a thumbs up, though he knows they won’t be able to see. Worse, raising his arm up over his head sends a shock of pain straight down his spine.

So, yeah, not doing that again. Ryou drops his arm and leans forward, breathing heavily to steel himself.

Then he turns himself away from the base and begins the long, slow trudge back.

Really, it was funny. Ryou had been so annoyed at the slow walk toward the base, so ready to be doing anything else.

Just went to show - it could always be worse.

***

The valley manages to be both simpler and more difficult to walk through. While the ledge had been mostly flat, even while it wound through the mountains, the collected sand below creates constant hills.

Going up is painful, not only literally, but because his boots threaten to give out. More than once, Ryou slips. He does a belly flop into the sand, making his whole body jolt with renewed pain. Picking himself up hurts nearly as much as the first time.

However, going down is nice. He only has to sit down at the peak and push himself off. The sand and gravity send him skating down to the bottom without any effort. Then he dusts himself off and continues on his way.

Even if he hadn’t been injured, Ryou would have been making slower progress here. Above, the sand is packed tightly enough that it’s easy to walk on. Down here, it’s more like a beach. It compacts under each step.

It takes a little extra effort and time to move. Which is not great when Ryou really just wants to find a comfy spot to lie down.

He would feel better if he could follow what the team was doing, or check his progress on the way back to the castle. Hell, if he could at least just tell what time it is. 

But none of those suit functions work. Ryou’s wrist computer completely shattered on impact. It rattles with each step, proving something is loose inside. It’ll take more than a screwdriver to fix that.

Eventually, he just turned off his helmet rather than listen to the constant crackle. But that means he’s alone with only the sounds of his footsteps crunching through sand.

It’s been a while. Hard to say exactly how long. Maybe half a varga? A full varga? Ryou imagines that if the team hasn’t gotten to the base, they’re at least close.

Of course, maybe it’s been longer than that. Maybe they’re already inside, taking the database apart and fighting off Galra. Downloading won’t take too long - the bulk of it will be finding the console and battling their way out.

Which means they might be near done. Which means-

After, Coran will take the castle and meet them at the base, providing air support and a ready escape. Bringing over the lions if they’re needed.

So Ryou might be limping his way through the dark, chasing a Castle of Lions that’s long gone.

A shiver jolts through him, unrelated to the constant ache. Ryou stumbles as his weaker left leg threatens to give out, like there’s physical cold sapping his strength.

“Don’t be stupid,” he mumbles, mostly to hear something besides his breathing and uneven footsteps. “It’s not like that.”

Except it is, kind of. Ryou still looks out from a ragged helmet, forcing himself along despite his leg injury. A chill sinks into him, as if soaking into his skin despite his armor. He continues forward, so fucking tired, because he can only hope that his home is within reach.

_ Voltron. _

_ The red light of the cockpit, the gnawing ache in his stomach. The desperate hope, because if he doesn’t have that, he has nothing else. _

Ryou shakes his head hard, which only makes his vision spin. He has to pause as his stomach rolls. Swallowing hard, he takes a deep breath.

It’s  _ not like that. _

But the cold still clings to his skin, an oppressive force completely surrounding him.

“It’s not real,” Ryou reminds himself, forcing himself to move. The suits, when properly activated, are void-proof. They’re temperature controlled. The only part of him that should be cold is his exposed face, if anything.

And yet...

While he’s lost in his head, Ryou steps down into a patch of larger rocks. They shift under his weight, rolling just enough to throw off his balance. 

Ryou reacts too slowly, distracted by the phantom chill and his thoughts. His ankle wobbles and twists. Then the darkness around him spins as he crashes into the gravel and sand below.

Groaning, Ryou closes his eyes. His whole body throbs from the impact, his ankle, knee, and shoulder all lighting up in the back of his mind. He doesn’t think he broke anything with the latest fall, but it definitely didn’t help.

Ryou takes a deep breath through his teeth, falling back on habits that aren’t his. Like after the arena, when he was damaged but not worth healing. He couldn’t stop, so he - Shiro - learned to deal with it.

Breath in. Breath out. Focus on the pain. Analyze it. Learn it. Then take that whole sensation and lock it back away.

Ryou hurts, but nothing is broken. Nothing can’t wait. He needs to survive.

Opening his eyes, Ryou stares up at the barely visible starry sky, broken by both the dark negative space of clouds, and the reaching peaks of the mountain.

As much as he loves the stars, Ryou is thankful. A big, open view of the void isn’t what he needs right now.

Slowly, Ryou pushes himself up. With equal care, he climbs his way to his feet, wobbling dangerously. His legs are even weaker now, and pushing through the constant throbbing pain is turning into muscle burn.

Ryou’s tired. It was already the middle of the night when he first fell. But he’s also just  _ tired. _ Tired of reliving memories that aren’t his, tired of falling back into his own first few moments.

It’s not fair. 

But there’s never been one solitary moment of Ryou’s life that’s been  _ fair. _ From the moment he was made, he wasn’t designed with fairness in mind. Why should his life or the universe be any different?

Ignoring the ache down his back and thighs, Ryou continues on.

More time passes. Ryou eventually wraps his arms around himself, as if that does anything for the purely mental chill. He can’t even really feel it through the armor.

By now, the base is long gone. Ryou hasn’t heard a peep from another living thing, Galra, Paladin, or otherwise. There isn’t even wildlife: this entire area is a barren wasteland, with no plants or animals to speak of. Just sand.

If they didn’t get caught shouting up and down at the cliff, then Ryou’s probably in the clear here. The Galra don’t seem to patrol this area, as dangerous as it is.

So he does what he can to distract himself.

“Take my love, take my land, take me where I cannot stand,” Ryou sings, under his breath mostly because, well, he’s not a great singer. Yes, he’s sung to taunt Shiro, but that had been when they were... less than friendly. And he’d given it a shot. It hadn’t stuck.

But is it really bad singing if no one is around to hear it?

(Is he even making noise at all?)

“I don’t care, I’m still free. You can’t take the sky from me.”

Ryou follows the valley as it curves around the side of one mountain. Each time he comes to one of these, he hopes he’ll finally be able to see the Castle of Lions.

He’s been disappointed each time.

“Take me out to the black. Tell ‘em I ain’t coming back.”

Ryou rounds the corner.

And is faced, not with the Castle, but with a small, steep hill. Made of loose sand. It’s not nearly as bad as the fifty foot vertical cliff Ryou fell down earlier, but it’s going to be quite the climb without sturdy footing.

Ryou closes his eyes and takes another slow, deep breath. Acknowledge the problem. Learn it. Categorize it. Push the fears and pain away.

When he opens his eyes, he tenses, then runs.

Right as he hits the base of the hill, Ryou activates the jet pack. Then he jumps.

But Ryou forgot how damaged his armor is. So he pushes himself into the air, but there’s no thrust. He hears a grinding noise, like something is loose or sand has gotten inside.

Then his foot hits the side of the hill, only a few feet up. He has probably fifteen more to go.

Ryou scrambles, digging in his boots and clawing at the sandy wall. Most of it goes tumbling, but not all of it, and he’s just barely able to keep himself in place. 

Gritting his teeth, Ryou continues clawing himself up. His thighs burn, his legs scream, his shoulder throbs. But it’s push on or give up, and there’s only ever been one option.

Inch by inch, Ryou makes his way up the hill. For every step he takes, he slides down a couple of inches. Very literally, it’s two steps forward, one step back. But he’s making slow, exhausting progress.

Then, halfway up, Ryou’s left leg buckles. When he tries to grab onto the hill to brace himself, his whole body just slides. The rocks and sand below him begin to shift, then roll, then tumble down.

They take Ryou with them, in the same mini-landslide that had originally knocked him down the cliff.

Ryou rolls this time, rather than falls. He’s on an incline, so he never leaves it. Instead, he’s tossed, literally head over heels. The world spins, and the only way he can tell which way is up is by belatedly realizing which parts of him are touching dirt. Helmet, boots, knees, back, shoulder.

Ryou finally comes to a stop, groaning. All of him hurts, and he’s nauseous from tumbling, but at least he didn’t have so jarring an impact.

Then, more rocks start to pelt his armor.

Ryou opens his eyes, and realizes that while he’s stopped, the sand he kicked off hasn’t. And that sand has dragged down more sand, and all of it is coming right for him.

Ryou cries out, but all he can do is brace as the dirt and rocks begin to crash down on him. Each individual piece can’t do much, but all of them together quickly grow heavy, then actively painful.

Shaking his head, Ryou does his best to at least keep one part of him clear. Luckily, he’s still able to activate the visor of the helmet, so he’s not once again getting sand in his mouth. Even if he has air to last for a time, he does  _ not _ want to be completely buried.

He tries to arch his back up and throw off what’s on his body, too. But it quickly weighs him down. When he tries, his poor, abused leg finally totally gives up. It once again buckles, and he’s shoved back down as if someone had pinned his torso.

Luckily, the hill was small, and Ryou hadn’t started a true landslide. Eventually, the rocks settle again.

Except now, Ryou is firmly held down from the chest to his knees.

At least he’s harder to see if any Galra scouts try to wander by.

Ryou groans and smacks his head back against the sandy floor, as if that does anything except make his dizziness worse.

“You can’t take the sky from me,” Ryou groans, giving up the fight and going limp under the rocks.

Ryou stares up at the sky. Which, it seems, can be taken from him, provided he is quite literally grounded.

Oh, hey, grounded. He’ll have to share that one with Hunk. Provided he doesn’t get crushed to death, or otherwise left behind.

Above him, the edges of the sky are going from black to a pale blue. The stars begin to disappear from the horizon.

Sunrise is coming. The night is officially over.

If the team isn’t done with their mission by now, something is probably very wrong.

The mission isn’t the most dangerous they’ve been on, obviously, but nothing is without risk. They could have been spotted after all, and then walked into a trap. Or their lead here could have been bogus to begin with. Or, hell, a couple of lucky shots would do it. Their team has so few members, and each of them  _ need _ each other. One person down means the rest are easier to pick off.

Maybe Ryou’s stupid fucking mistep ruined everything. Maybe they’re captured or dying.

Ryou tries to push himself up again, but it’s no use. The weight is just too much in his weakened state. He activates his arm, but yelps. The heat is trapped in his little cage with him, and keeping it on will bake him alive.

He’s stuck. Helpless and waiting, while the team does the job they came here for.

Anything at all could be happening to the rest of them. And meanwhile, Ryou can’t even get up.

If the worst happens...

Coran would try and find him. Assuming Ryou’s tracking is working, when nearly all of the armor has taken damage. But he would go and help the team first, if they were in danger. And if this is a trap, they’d be ready for him too.

He’d have heard that, right? Ryou would have seen the castle fly after. He would have heard it be shot down.

Then again, the mountains block his view. Maybe he’s too far to hear...

Ryou closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He  _ knows _ he’s worrying himself into incoherence. The paladins have come through so many missions, and this dinky communications base is not the place they’ll fall.

But is that really true? It feels wrong to believe this stupid mission ends them, but what does the universe care about fairness or justice? 

Nothing at all.

If something happened to them all, then Ryou is stuck here. It’s unlikely the Galra will find him so far out (he hopes), so instead he’ll remain trapped under these rocks until exposure or dehydration end him.

Trapped again in a tight little space, a chill in his bones, just wanting to be  _ home. _

Ryou shivers and stares up at the lightening sky.

“There’s no place I-I can be,” he murmurs out. Even singing that lowly can’t disguise the shake in his voice. “Since I found Serenity.”

As Ryou stares, a shadow passes over, just barely visible in the dark sky. Too small to be the castle.

Instinctively, he tries to duck further down into the dirt, making himself as small a target as possible. His white armor does him no favors blending in, but the ship is high up. Hopefully they won’t notice him.

Except the shadow twists around, whipping back toward him in one sharp movement. Ryou tenses, all the more worried about facing someone who can turn a Galra cruiser on a dime like that.

Until the shadow grows larger, and Ryou can make out the shape.

A lion shape.

Oh.

Relief floods Ryou. He laughs, a manic sound after all his worries.

The Black Lion lands less than twenty feet away. The impact sends more sand tumbling, adding to Ryou’s little collection.

Ryou has to tilt his head back to see the lion’s head. Then he gives Black a dry smile. “Hey. You save me a lot for someone who doesn’t really like me, huh?”

Obviously, there’s no response. The lion’s head dips down and the jaw opens. Immediately, Shiro jogs out, relief and worry battling over his expression. “Ryou!”

“Hey, bro,” Ryou calls, grinning as though he’s not under heavy weights and aching all over. Or as if he’d been on the verge of a self-induced panic attack. “I figured I’d try stone massage. I’ve heard good things.”

Keith follows after Shiro, half-running as well. He’d probably been the one flying, considering Shiro beat him out. “I don’t think that’s how that works,” Keith says flatly. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know. Just chilling.”

Ryou grins, and it’s not even faked. It’s so much easier to just  _ be _ when there are others around. When he has someone to joke with and smile at. It’s when he’s alone that his worries really creep up in his mind.

Shiro steps carefully up to where Ryou lays, eyeing him over. “Are you injured anywhere?” He asks, not even replying to Ryou’s jokes. Which is obviously rude. 

“A little everywhere,” Ryou says. He tries to shrug, but can only manage a tiny little jerk of his chest. “Nothing you’ll make worse by digging me out. All my hurts are on the inside where they belong.”

Shiro gives him the side eye, but does start to dig Ryou out. Keith joins on his other side. Between the two of them, they’re able to brush away enough of the sand and rocks that Ryou can squirm his way free with only some minor (-ish) discomfort.

When Ryou tries to stand, though, his left leg absolutely will not have it. He ends up kneeling on his right knee, wincing as he goes back down.

“Whoops,” Ryou says. “Okay, maybe a little injured.”

Shiro takes a deep breath, then gently slides under Ryou’s right shoulder. He wraps his arm around Ryou’s waist, in what could be support but is really more of a half-hug. Slowly, he stands, taking much of Ryou’s wait.

“Better?”

Ryou leans against his brother’s shoulder and closes his eyes. On his other side, Keith hovers, but doesn’t touch - he looks distinctly nervous that he might cause Ryou more harm, since that’s his injured side.

He can do whatever he wants, honestly. Ryou’s just glad to be back with his family.

Ryou hums out his reply, hobbling along as Shiro starts to step. His left shoulder protests, but he still reaches out and puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder, squeezing it. “How’d everything go?”

“Easy,” Keith says. “The worst part was the walk over. By the time we got there, most of the crew had gone to bed. There was only a skeleton team of sentries to deal with.”

Nice. “Good to hear. Glad I missed it, then. Sounds boring. I had a bigger adventure.”

Shiro huffs. “Yeah, you look like you had a great time.” He squeezes Ryou tighter again, and makes no comment when Ryou continues to lean his head on his shoulder.

All three get up to the cockpit, Ryou half-carried up the ramp. Keith gives Ryou’s hand a squeeze, then settles back into the pilot’s seat to get them home.

“I thought you were going to send Hunk to get me,” Ryou says. He doesn’t let go of Shiro, even as he’s lowered to the ground. Shiro doesn’t either, sitting next to him with a distinctly overprotective air.

Ryou can’t say he minds right about now.

“We did,” Shiro says. “But we thought it would go faster with more than one lion.”

Translation: Shiro hadn’t wanted to stay behind and wait. Keith either.

Ryou smiles into Shiro’s armor, nodding. “Makes sense. We’re on a timetable.”

“Exactly.”

“And how pissed is Lance?”

Shiro huffs out a laugh. “Extremely.”

Ryou sighs, but isn’t surprised. “I’ll deal with it. But there’s no way he could have taken my weight, especially with the ground so loose. It would have just taken us both down.”

Not that he’d thought any of that in the moment. But it  _ sounds _ reasonable.

Shiro gently tugs off Ryou’s helmet, then pets through his hair. There’s a slight shower of sand, which neither of them blink at. Both of them are a mess after everything.

Yeah, Ryou’s going to have to handle Lance, and he’s likely to need a pod, too. Neither of which are going to be fun.

But right now, he’s safe, he’s going home, and his family is all okay.

The last of the fear drains away, leaving Ryou exhausted and limp. Nuzzling into Shiro’s armor, Ryou lets out a sigh and goes limp. A tiny little smile curls at the corner of his lips as he sings under his breath.

“You can’t take the sky from me.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Is that the best you got?” Ryou taunts, smirking over the top of his shield. He ducks down, letting the return shots fly harmlessly over his head. A step to the right of him, safely behind the cover of the half-closed metal door, Lance laughs gleefully.

With practiced synchronicity, Ryou ducks down, keeping the shield up and protecting about four feet up. Lance pivots and raises his bayard. He aims down the barrel and fires off three times.

Two sentries go down, missing pieces of their head. A third crumbles, their leg shot out at the knee. Their prone, flailing body trips up several more behind it as they step around another mostly-shut door.

Then, Lance ducks back around, head back as he cackles in delight. Ryou pops back up and sticks his tongue out at the bots, visible through the translucent shield. They won’t care - they’re robots, they don’t respond to Ryou’s jibes. But it’s fun anyway.

“About time to fall back?” Lance asks. He nods further down the hall, where another blast door waits. 

These long sections of Galra warbirds are made to withstand damage to the hull. If a hole is ever broken through, the doors around it shut down to prevent further decompression.

Which means this hallway has a dozen doors, which Ryou has already taken control of.

Sure, they could just shut them all down and bolt. But that’s not the plan. Ryou and Lance aren’t trying to escape. They’re not even trying to do as much damage as possible (though that part is fun).

No, today they’re a distraction.

Ryou’s favorite role.

Glancing back at the next door, Ryou shrugs one shoulder. “We can. There’s half a dozen more back there by my count, so that should last the better part of a varga. But I think we’re still good here for a bit.” They don’t know how long it’s going to take the rest of the team to raid this ship’s database and supplies. Ryou would rather take their time.

Lance shrugs and raises his bayard. Once again, they go through their twisting little dance, Ryou ducking out of the way and giving cover while Lance takes out a few more. The pieces of robot are starting to pile up in front of them, giving the bots more trouble as they try to converge.

Ducking back over, Lance chances a glance through Ryou’s shield. His brows go up teasingly as he glances sideways at Ryou. “They’re getting a little close. They might catch up if we wait.” Despite his words, his tone is only daring.

Ryou laughs, even as he adjusts the shield to take a few more shots. Technically he can let them fly over their heads, but the blasts can bounce around if they hit at the correct angle. No one wants to get shot in the back by a stray shot.

“I’m sorry, you don’t want to take a little risk?” Ryou says, waggling his brows. “Who are you and what have you done with Lance?”

Lance scoffs and nudges sideways, knocking Ryou hard in the shoulder. He stumbles, but keeps both his shield and his smile in place. “I was worried for  _ you.” _ Lance says. “I’m not sure if you can keep up with me, you know.”

“You sure about that? Compared to me, you’re an old man.” Ryou narrows his eyes, but there’s absolutely no heat. Both of them are flushed, sweaty, and downright giddy with the adrenaline. 

If Shiro was here, he’d be giving them the Look and tell them to make the  _ smart _ choice.

Which, yeah, sure. But what about the fun choice?

Even so, Ryou glances again and eyes the sentries. They’ve managed to climb over their fallen bot brethren. There’s about fifteen feet of empty hallway between them, and Ryou can shut the door whenever he damn well pleases.

But the door also won’t keep them out for long. These particular bots can wrench them open within a dobash or two - a newer development. The Galra got sick of Team Voltron outsmarting security with the advanced technique of a locked door.

“Yeah, alright,” Ryou says. “One more round, then we book it down. Sounds good?”

Lance nods, hefting his bayard up. “Yeah, ready when you are. Hey, if one of them gets too close, maybe you can grab a blaster. Join the party.”

“And take your glory? You’d never forgive me.”

Lance chuckles as he spins and fires again. One sentry goes down, another stumbles. 

Five more begin to file their way past the half-open door they’d previously been guarding.

“Okay,” Lance says, voice tighter. “It’s getting crowded. Let’s go.”

“Roger that.” Ryou waits till Lance has safely tucked away before he drops his shield. Unfortunately, he needs both hands to project his screen and activate the program. A serious design flaw he needs to work on.

The footsteps get dangerously close, only a few feet away. Ryou taps the button on his wrist, then nods to Lance. “Okay, let’s go!”

The door shudders, then begins to slide the rest of the way closed. Ryou pulls his shield back up, moving closer to Lance out of protective instinct. 

But a foot of metal should do plenty to keep shots out. Even if he has his arm up, Ryou’s more focused on bolting for the next door. He needs to get it in the right position - halfway shut, leaving just a foot of space - before the door gets yanked back open.

As they go, Ryou hears the  _ thump _ of metal on metal. He grins back, trying to gauge how long they have to get ready.

Except the doors aren’t closed. There’s an inch of space open.

That inch of space has the barrel of a blaster pushed through, holding them apart.

It fires.

Ryou shoves his arm forward, trying to make sure it safely hits him.

But he’s in the wrong position. While he’s running, he’s twisted forward, the shield at an awkward angle.

It misses his shield by less than two inches.

Lance cries out, a high pitched scream of primal fear and pain. He crashes to the ground with a groan.

The center of his back, right below where the chestplate ends, has a ragged tear. It reveals a freely bleeding and burnt bullethole.

Ryou stares, jaw falling open. He stumbles to a stop and reaches out. “Lance?  _ Lance!” _

Lance grunts, but doesn’t respond. Instead he turns over, bayard still in the form of a rifle. His complexion goes ashen and his eyes fill with pained tears.

He aims and fires off one shot.

The blast goes through the barely opened doors, hitting the gun on the other side. It’s knocked out, and the doors finally close the rest of the way.

Lance lets out a whine and drops his bayard. It reverts back before it clatters to the ground. Then he goes limp, eyes pressed tightly closed and biting his bottom lip.

No. Oh no no no.

Ryou’s hands hover over Lance, shaking as his mind scrambles. He can do some basic, primitive field medicine, but nothing like this.

Behind them, the door shudders and groans. They have less than a minute to move, or else they’re two giant, obvious targets.

“I’m so sorry,” Ryou says, his voice shaking. He picks up Lance’s bayard and tucks it under his arm.

Lance cracks open one eye, glaring. “Don’t...” he manages to force out. “Not... your fault.”

Yeah, well, it had been one of their jobs to play defense, and that wasn’t Lance.

Even so Ryou shakes his head. “Not for that. This.”

He hooks his hands under Lance’s arms and pulls him along the floor.

Lance  _ screams. _

Ryou closes his eyes, forcing his hands not to shake and make this worse. He drags Lance the rest of the way, leaving a trail of smeared blood behind. Once they’re far enough, he braces Lance against the wall with his bayard, murmuring quiet apologies again, before working on closing the door.

That one slams shut just as the other one begins to wrench open. It still has resistance for the moment, so it’ll be a struggle for them to get through. But then they’ll only have to walk down the hall and open this door next.

Ryou scrambles at his program, looking for something that can lock the doors better. There has to be some way. There  _ needs _ to be, or else they’re sitting ducks.

As he works, Ryou flips the comms on to the general line. “Lance is down,” he reports, forcing his voice to stay steady.

“What?” Hunk yelps, voice jumping up an octave. “Down how? Buddy?”

“Shot,” Lance says, smiling grimly even if no one but Ryou can see. “Middle of.. Of the back, too. Why always there?”

“What’s your position?” Shiro asks, voice hard and cold. 

Ryou winces. He knows it’s not blame, but fuck if he can’t help taking it that way. “Still on the third level, port side. We have cover for now, but that won’t last.”

“I’m on my way,” Shiro says. “Allura, meet me there. We’ll need more range.”

“I-” Hunk starts, then cuts off. “Yeah, okay.”

Ryou winces yet again, looking down at the bayard on his own hip. Hunk had handed it over ‘just in case’, but they’ve been picking off sentries at a distance. He hadn’t needed it. Now, it’s useless unless he wants to invite the sentries in through the door.

If Hunk was here, he could blast down the hallway and bam, no more sentries.

“We don’t have long,” Ryou warns. “Less than a minute.”

Lance tries to push himself up, only to groan and flop back down. “If I get lined up... I can shoot.”

Ryou’s stomach twists. Lance is bleeding, pained, eyes still full of tears. But he’s willing to fight back.

Can Ryou fail to do the same?

Shaking his head, Ryou takes a deep breath and stands. “I’ll stall.”

“You sure about that?” Pidge asks sharply. “If you go down too, that’s just more people in danger.”

Ryou winces, because it’s true even if it’s blunt. “What’s our other option?”

Lance shifts, clearly trying to move and help. But Ryou gives him a fierce glare.

He can’t hear anything through the thick metal of the doors. But he can imagine what’s happening - the sentries holding open the doors, each forcing them far enough open for themselves until the resistance mechanism finally breaks. Walking forward at that same mechanical pace until they reach this bare defence.

Ryou tightens his grip on the bayard. He activates his shield on the left arm instead and takes a deep breath. Then he stands at the door seam, getting ready.

“Let’s just move back,” Lance says, voice thick as he forces out the words. “Buy time.”

Yeah, that’ll buy them six dobashes at absolute best. That’s still probably not enough time for Shiro and Allura to arrive. And it involves continuing to drag Lance all the way down the hallway. Bad enough Ryou had to do it the first time. There’s too much risk of doing more damage.

So Ryou shakes his head once. He braces his feet and swallows hard. His heart is racing and his remaining palm is sweating. But he can’t focus on the fear. He can’t afford to.

He’s going to keep Lance safe.

“Ryou-”

The door shudders. Metal fingers shove their way through, straining against resistance.

Ryou activates his bayard.

He expects the familiar weight of his claws, dense and centered around his knuckles. 

Instead, the handle narrows, and the balance is far forward. A cuff snaps into place just below his elbow, stabilizing the weight.

Ryou looks down, already knowing what he’ll see.

In his hand is a yellow and white version of the long, bladed weapon that Shiro had used in the arena. Wickedly sharp and painfully familiar. Something Ryou can use like an extension of himself just as much as his brother.

And, most importantly, something he can use with one hand that will reach around a shield.

Ryou narrows his eyes and tightens his grip. He feels a raised button just under where his thumb naturally rests. He presses it.

The curved blade crackles with electricity, just like the taser function of Pidge’s weapon.

Yeah. That’ll do.

Ryou chances one last glance at Lance. His complexion is sickly, his hands shaking against the ground. His eyes look shockingly blue contrasted with how red-rimmed they are, still teared up from sheer pain.

Lance had done the majority of the damage thus far. Now it’s Ryou’s turn.

And if he fails...

Ryou shakes off the thought and pushes the terror to the back of his mind.

Instead, he shoves the thin blade through the break in the door, still crackling with lightning. It connects with the sentry, unleashing the charge right into it.

The sentry falls back, losing its grip on the door. But two more have caught up and join in, wrenching the heavy metal doors apart. They tug until there’s a painful scrape and clang within the mechanism and the resistance ends.

Ryou steps through the enlarged gap, shield up to force the sentries back. Shots impact against the translucent surface, rippling with the force. He clenches his jaw, takes a deep breath, and  _ swings. _

The blow cuts through the two holding the door. One falls to the ground, cut fully in half at the waist seam. The other rears back, missing an arm just below the shoulder.

More robots continue to press through the previous door. Ryou has no idea how many there are total anymore - there had been maybe eight when they closed the previous door, but more have probably joined.

Ryou keeps the shield up in front of him. With his right arm, he lifts the blade high, then brings it down into the sentry’s helmet like a pickaxe. The metal crumples under the force, and a jolt makes sure it won’t recover from the damage.

In any other situation, Ryou would charge forward, using the shield as a battering ram and knocking the sentries off balance. But if he does, he leaves the three foot gap in the door vulnerable. Any bot could move around him and walk through. 

Then Lance will be left unprotected.

It’s unacceptable.

So instead, Ryou holds his head high, tucked behind the shield, and waits. He can’t block all the shots now, and he’s aware of the ones that flicker past and ricochet off the walls. But all Ryou can do is hope and keep his limbs safe as possible.

“ETA?” Ryou asks. His voice is flat, professional - Shiro-esque, in some ways. He doesn’t have the mental energy to spare dressing it up.

“Six dobashes,” Allura says. Her voice is thin, out of breath. It sounds like she’s in a full sprint.

Okay. Ryou just has to hold them off that long.

The closest of the sentries gives up trying to shoot. Instead, they drop the blaster and reach out to try and grab Ryou.

Ryou swipes his left arm out, back-handedly smacking the sentry on the side of the head with his shield. Twisting with the momentum, he brings the blade down in an arch, cleanly separating the neck from the shoulders. 

The movement leaves him wide open. Shots fly past, close enough for Ryou to feel their heat along his cheeks.

So he plants the heel of his boots into the headless sentry’s chest and kicks it back, right into the two more robots closing in.

The impact is enough to make them both stumble. Their shots go wild, hitting the walls instead. One bounces off the far wall, then back, hitting the other sentry in the shoulder.

The other reflects off the ceiling, skimming along Ryou’s ear.

Wincing, Ryou resists the urge to touch the burn. It won’t help, and it’ll just leave him more vulnerable.

He considers diving for the abandoned blaster to make his range further. But even if he’s a decent shot, he doesn’t have near Lance’s level of precision. And it would require abandoning his spot and leaving the next section of hallway open.

Not going to happen.

So Ryou gets his shield back up and waits, ignoring the throbbing in his ear. It aches in time with his rapidly fluttering pulse.

The two sentries push their headless brethren off. By the time they begin again, two more enter the fray.

Four sentries wouldn’t be a bad fight, but Ryou can’t move from his spot.

Gritting his teeth, he waits.

Four down, at least four to go.

This time, the sentries are getting wiser. They don’t try to attack individually. The two in front flank, coming around by Ryou’s sides, while the remaining ones come head on.

Once they’re coming from more than one direction, the shield isn’t going to do Ryou any good.

So Ryou waits carefully, eyes darting from one robot to the next.

Then he loses the shield and drops to the floor, just as one begins to pull the trigger. He holds his arm out as far as it’ll go, just a few inches above the ground, and swings as widely as he can.

The two in front are just out of range. The one on the left jumps in time, sailing over the blade.

The right-most sentry is not that lucky. The blade sinks into their shin. It would be cosmetic damage at worst, except Ryou unloads a blast of electricity into the thing, frying it from the inside.

Ryou doesn’t give them time to readjust. He flips onto his back and tucks in, then activates the shield. With all of them attacking from  _ up, _ he’s able to block the volley of shots. 

Once the blaster fire pauses, Ryou drops the shield and rolls to his side until he can climb to his feet. It puts him against the right wall - several feet away from where he needs to be.

But the bots are focused on him, at least for the moment.

So Ryou kicks off the wall like a spring board. He doesn’t even bother with his weapon, just reaching out to grab onto the left sentry by the arm and blaster.

Then, Ryou leans forward with all his might, including the strength of the Altean prosthetic. He lifts the robot bodily off its feet, flinging it over his head like Shiro did Sendak.

It goes flying through the air and crashes into one of the two remaining sentries.

They both go down in a heap of metal.

But the remaining sentry has their blaster aimed right for Ryou’s chest. And Ryou can’t get his weapon or shield back up in time.

Ryou closes his eyes, bracing for the pain.

The crackle of a blaster. A flash of light.

No pain.

Ryou opens his eyes again, to see the sentry standing with a neat hole right through the chest. It slumps to its knees, then falls face-down onto the floor.

Ryou glances back. Lance is slumped back against the door, his rifle now resting in his lap. He’s breathing hard, shaking on each exhale, and his face is drawn thin with pain.

“Lance...” Ryou breathes, at once relieved and terrified. He’s glad not to have a new hole in his head, but he doesn’t want Lance to damage himself, either.

Lance shoots him a glare, his teeth clenched tight. “Pay attention,” he hisses out, nodding back into the room.

The two sentries Ryou had thrown together are struggling, trying to untangle themselves and get up. Ryou steps forward and sinks the blade in through the top one. The wickedly sharp edge sinks all the way into the second, and another jolt finishes them off.

There are more footsteps coming, heavy and metal. But they have a few seconds to breathe and regroup.

“You should-”

“Sit and wait for us both to be killed?” Lance forces out, each word harsh. “No. Shut up.”

Ryou winces, wanting to deny it. Wanting to believe he can keep his best friend safe. But he remembers his failed little assassination mission, and a few seconds ago he very likely would have been dead. Then what would have happened to Lance?

“You’ve been shot,” Ryou says instead. “Don’t hurt yourself more.”

“I’m not.” Lance nods toward the hull. “Do you see Blue or Red busting in?”

Actually, no. That’s a good point. But then, Blue hadn’t rampaged through the castle when Lance was blown up, and he’d been in bad shape then.

Still, Ryou understand what Lance means. He’s hurt, but he’s not on the brink of death.

Tell that to Ryou’s thundering heart.

“At least try not to move your back,” Ryou manages, because he has to say  _ something. _ The fact that Lance must have dragged himself into this position to continue to fight makes his stomach want to crawl out of his throat.

Lance huffs, but there’s a least a hint of amusement below it. “I can do that.” Then he gives a smile, tired and wane compared to their easy joking from just a few dobashes ago. “I’m worried about... about you. T-try to keep up.”

“I can do that.”

They’re interrupted as shots come through the doors in front of them. More sentries begin to crowd the narrow space.

Squaring his shoulders, Ryou prepares for another round.

***

Ryou hangs back, watchful but separate, as Coran floats a slack Lance off in a stretcher. He must have lost consciousness in the flight over. He’d been aware when Allura and Shiro finally reached them, but now he’s still and ashen.

Ryou wishes he was there when Lance passed out. He hadn’t wanted to be separate from him, not after how he’d gotten injured. But someone needed to fly Yellow, and Hunk had been beside himself. He’d been stuck raiding storage while everything went down. Ryou told him to stay with Allura and Lance in Blue, taking over piloting duties himself.

It was the least he could do, considering.

Behind him, familiar footsteps approach. A firm, metal hand settles on his shoulder. 

“How are you doing?” Shiro asks neutrally.

“Bruised,” Ryou replies flatly. He doesn’t look back, even when Lance is floated around the corner. “Otherwise fine. I don’t need a pod.”

Shiro’s hand drops away as he sighs. “Alright.”

Ryou stays stiff, eyes forward. Waiting for the response. The scolding. He hadn’t held up his end of the mission. He was the defense, and they’d broken through. It was Lance who paid the price.

Even as he waits, heart pounding, he knows he won’t get it. This is their job. Sometimes they’re hurt, like when Ryou had fallen not long ago. It was no one’s  _ fault. _

It doesn’t stop the terror from icing through his veins.

Silence holds. Then Shiro’s shoulder collides with Ryou’s, hard enough to threaten his balance. “Do me a favor?” Shiro asks, deceptively conversationally. “Go find out from Coran how long Lance is going to be in there. I’ll check later, but I need to talk with Pidge on the data she pulled, and help Allura unload everything we put in Yellow.”

Both of which will be less than they should have gotten, because they cut the mission short. Because Ryou-

Unhelpful. It had been Shiro’s call to pull out, and Pidge and Hunk both know what they’re doing. They would have prioritized the most important information and items first. 

Ryou needs to stop this useless blaming. But he can’t, not so long as he remembers Lance screaming, leaving a trail of blood behind as Ryou drags him along the floor.

“Yeah,” Ryou says, taking a deep breath. “I can do that.”

“Thanks.” Shiro hovers for a moment, clearly considering saying more. But in the end, he walks off.

Of anyone on this ship, Shiro knows Ryou isn’t going to accept reassurance right now.

Ryou finally chances a look at his back, heart in his throat. He sees no sign of held back anger. Tension, yes - Shiro is worried, same as everyone else. But not  _ mad. _

Shaking his head, Ryou finally drags his first foot forward, then the other, following the same way the stretcher had gone.

By the time Ryou arrives, Hunk is gone - no doubt to build or cook something and occupy his mind. Coran stands at the controls to the pod, peering at the screens. And Lance...

Lance is inside, eyes closed. In the colored, curved glass, it’s so hard to make sure he’s breathing.

“Ah, hello, One Point Five,” Coran greets him, brows up. He rests his hands on the console and gives a thin smile. “Come to check in?”

Ryou gives a sharp nod. He takes off his helmet and holds it against his chest. “Yeah. How’s the damage?”

“Well, he’s certainly been better,” Coran reports blandly. His mustache twitches in a tiny, aborted smile. “But he’s been worse, too. That poor back of his. He’s lucky it hit where it did. It certainly hurt, but he didn’t hit that spinal column of yours. Delicate little place, really.”

Ryou goes pale, thinking about it. Could the pods even fix something as complex as that? Then again, they’d put Lance back together when his entire back had been blown up.

Coran’s brows go up. He taps at the screen, which disappears, and then steps in closer. “He’ll be in for a few varga, then he’ll be back to dragging you into one of his games.” This time his voice is gentler, more confident. Calming.

Like Ryou is a spooked animal, ready to bolt.

He kind of feels like one.

“Good to know,” Ryou manages to force out. He feels like he’s under a layer of glass, distant from the conversation. 

Coran frowns at him, head cocked to the side. “Are you quite well?” He asks, circling around Ryou like he’s a judge inspecting a show dog. He prods at Ryou’s shoulder, which even through the armor makes him wince. “Do you need a few varga in a pod yourself?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Only bruises. I’m good.” Even the burn on his ear barely hurts anymore.

Coran still continues to watch him through narrowed eyes. He crosses his arm and stands firm in front of Ryou, chin raised in defiance. “Alright. Out with it. What’s the matter? This isn’t the first time you’ve waited for someone to get out of a pod. What’s gotten you so flustered?”

Wincing, Ryou ducks his head. “I don’t really know,” he admits. He’s definitely been scared before. He was a wreck with worry after their little assassination attempt, and he gets antsy whenever Shiro is hurt. But this time it feels personal in a different way.

Coran just waits, settling back on his heels like he has all the time in the universe.

“It’s just... it feels different. Like with Tekron. He shouldn’t have been in danger in the first place.”

Brows up, Coran drops his arms. “Was there a reason he shouldn’t have been on the mission?”

“No!” Ryou holds up his hands, wincing again. “Not like that. I mean later. When he was hurt. We weren’t...” 

How is he supposed to explain this when Ryou can barely follow his own thoughts?

He glances at Lance again, then sighs, his shoulders slumping. “We weren’t really careful. We were egging each other on a little. Because they were just sentries, you know? We were trying to gather them up. I waited too long on the door code, and then I didn’t see that it wasn’t closed properly until it was too late. It’s not fair Lance got hit for my mistake.”

Coran’s eyes widen. His lips twitch with something between sympathy and amusement. “And you know that if Shiro had made those calls, or anyone else, you wouldn’t be upset, correct?”

“Yeah.” Ryou considers, then turns his helmet around to look at the front. The glass has been totally replaced since his fall. “I mean, they probably would have made it for better reasons, but whatever.”

“So your issue isn’t that Lance was hurt, or even that he was hurt during his part of the mission. It’s that you feel you should have done more to protect him.”

Ryou’s head snaps up. He takes a half-step forward, just because Coran  _ gets it. _ “Yes! I was on defense. That was my  _ job. _ And I failed.”

Coran taps his chin faux-thoughtfully. “Would you believe that I’ve had this exact conversation with Hunk and with Gyrgan?”

Gy-

Oh, the former yellow paladin. It’s always been rare for Coran to mention their names directly, aside from Allura’s father. He usually alludes to them more subtly. He’d forgotten the names completely.

“You have?” Ryou asks, voice getting smaller.

Coran nods warmly. “Yes, it seems to be the curse of Yellow paladins. I think having a bond with the most armored lions does something to your brains. Makes you think you’re supposed to take every hit.” He taps Ryou on the forehead.

“Yeah, well, I actually use shields. Taking hits is what I’m supposed to do.” Ryou manages a tiny curl of his lips, the closest he can manage to a smile. “I guess you’re going to tell me to stop that.”

“Waste of breath,” Coran says, flapping a hand. “I’ve learned my lesson. You won’t listen to me anyway. So in this case, I’ll say that you’re forgiven.”

There’s no wave of relief, no sudden release of tension. But there is a comfort that Ryou is not alone. Others have felt this way - especially those he knows do their best. It doesn’t mean he failed.

A glance at the occupied pod shows that Lance is alive. Hurt, but recovering. In just a few varga, he’ll be back to normal.

So Ryou takes a deep breath, and lets it out. Let’s  _ go. _ It doesn’t fix everything, but the grip of fear in his chest loosens at least a little.

“Thanks, Coran,” Ryou says, offering the first real smile in a while.

Coran smiles back and pulls him into a quick, spine-crushingly tight hug. Then he lets Ryou go with a fond pat. “Of course. Now, I could use your help. The control console needs cleaning out, and the mice listen to you better than me.”

“Barely,” Ryou replies. But he recognizes the offer for the distraction it is and nods. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Then come along. There’s plenty to do.”

***

Three hours later, the pod opens. Ryou is there to catch Lance before he can fall out.

Lance blinks rapidly, then looks up and sees who's holding him up. He gives a wide smile, then throws his arms over Ryou’s shoulders. “Hey there.”

Ryou settles his arms around Lance’s chest, grinning back. He can’t help it. That’s just what Lance brings out in him. “Good afternoon, sleepy head. Have a nice nap?”

“Well, I figured I had time for a snooze. What with you not keeping up and all.”

Ryou shakes his head, fond and so, so happy to have Lance back. Leaning forward, he presses their foreheads together. “Hey. I’m sorry.”

Lance scoffs back. “For the sentries getting in a lucky shot? Don’t bother. Unless you’re apologizing again for kicking me on that sandy mountain. Because  _ that _ I accept.”

Pouting, Ryou huffs in his face. “I said I was sorry for that!”

“You can do it again. A few more times, even.”

Ryou rolls his eyes, because he knows that’s the reaction Lance wants. Then he picks Lance up by his underarms and holds him bodily off the floor. “Someone else take him. Hunk?”

Lance kicks his feet like a little kid and holds out his arms toward Hunk. “Buddy!”

“Yeah, I’ll take him.” Hunk steps up and grabs Lance in a tight hug. He murmurs to him, and Lance laughs as he hugs back.

Watching fondly, Ryou glances over and sees Coran looking back. He smiles and folds his arms behind his back, mouthing ‘better?’

Ryou considers, then nods.

Yeah, he’s better now.

Until next time, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter has some serious body horror going on. Violent body horror. If you think that's going to mess with you, consider giving this chapter a pass

This is not Ryou’s bed.

He’s knows that because this is cold. His bed is never cold. He keeps a few blankets on hand to make sure of that, and he rigged a heater into his mattress just in case. Ryou’s bed is perfectly toasty before he even climbs in.

This bed is also hard. Not just mattress-hard, but stone-hard. Metal-hard. There’s no pillow, no sheets. No pajamas, either. He’s wearing his armor.

Ryou’s not a fan of this.

Shivering, Ryou tries to turn on his side and curl up. Even if this isn’t his bed, he’s tired. Achingly tired, like trying to tread water in a pool of black tar. He wants to sink back under.  _ Rest. _ Even sluggishly taking in sense information is exhausting.

But Ryou can’t. He’s stopped short. Pressure grows at his wrists and ankles. More metal, cold, unyielding.

Restraints.

He’s-

Ryou finally opens his eyes. His vision swims dizzyingly, but he swallows back against immediate nausea. Distantly, he knows throwing up right now would be bad, even if he’s not following why.

The ceiling above him is a dark gray. Ryou squints at it, trying to make out features. He sees the shining white orbs of the light fixtures, but he can’t make out more details than that. Another shiver runs through him, discomfort that takes him a moment to connect with  _ why. _

This isn’t anywhere he knows. How did he get here?

Blinking rapidly, Ryou clears his vision somewhat. The ceiling gives him no more clues, so he turns his head to the left.

The first thing he sees is a tube of blue liquid, filled with a humanoid shape.

Ryou joltes, trying to jerk away from the sight. His limbs stop him short again, forcing him to stay in place and just keep looking.

That machine... He’s seen more like it. With familiar, identical faces, relaxed as if in sleep, with two arms and no scar.

But this figure isn’t like those. The head is too large, too perfectly round, and the limbs long and spindly. Even so, the bubbling liquid and pacid, slumped posture are all too similar.

The rest of the wall is filled with computers and servers. Ryou’s brow furrows as he looks them over. They don’t have the oddly organic shape of Galra computers, or the sleek, ethereal quality of Altan design. They’re chunky, square, solid - like nothing else Ryou is used to seeing. Old fashioned, in a way, but too perfectly geometric to remind him of Earth.

Slowly, Ryou turns his head the other direction. It’s a strenuous effort, like his bones have been replaced with lead while he slept.

On his other side, less than two feet away, is an alien. They have the same features as the one in the tube, but this one is awake and aware. Outside of the tank, Ryou can see their skin is sheer white and so thin that he can see the faint impression of organs and muscles below. They have two huge, pure black eyes that stare directly at Ryou’s face.

A memory comes to mind - one of Shiro’s, a flash of an impression while in Galra captivity. Comparing the aliens in the other cells to those of Earth pop culture. Specifically, Roswell-style aliens.

This being is eerily similar.

“Ah,” a voice says. It comes from the walls of the room, mechanical and stilted. The being’s jaw doesn’t move - now that Ryou is looking, he doesn’t see a mouth. “You are awake. Good. We can continue.”

“Um,” Ryou manages, then winces. His tongue sticks painfully to the inside of his far-too-dry mouth. He doesn’t feel like he’s that dehydrated - maybe it’s a side effect of whatever is making him so tired? “What?”

“Do not be alarmed,” the voice continues. “You will not be in pain. You will contribute greatly, soon.”

“C-” Ryou coughs, then winces as that makes his dry mouth and throat feel even worse. “Contribute to what?”

“Our survival.” The alien turns around and takes hold of a cart, then pulls it closer.

Ryou follows the motion, blinking rapidly to keep his eyes focused. On it is-

There’s a saw. And an injection needle.

Okay, nothing at all about that can be good.

Ryou tries to jerk away again. This time, he ignores the weight of his limbs and the fuzziness in his head. He’s alone, he’s cold, he’s on a metal table, and there’s drugs and a saw. This is  _ bad. _ He knows where this goes, and it involves pain and screaming and metal arms. He arches his back and pulls his limbs as hard as he can, ignoring the way his wrists and ankles bruise.

When that doesn’t work, Ryou narrows his eyes and activates the arm. But there’s no response. His fingers flatten automatically, but there’s no spark, no hum. Nothing. It might as well have been as flesh as his left.

“None of that,” the voice says, still blandly polite. “If you do not be still, you will be harmed. I do not wish that.”

Yeah, Ryou believes that. Just be a good boy and obey. It never got him better treatment before and it didn’t save him from Haggar. It won’t work here either. He continues to struggle, trying to throw himself off the far side of the table.

There’s a pause. Then the alien reaches under the table and flips something.

The whole thing lights up with electricity.

Ryou cries out, unable to stop despite the way it rubs his raw, dry throat. He arches off the table again, but without aim, only reacting to the way his nerves light up.

Then, it stops. He goes limp, blinking dazedly. A whine escapes him, slipping out before he can even collect his thoughts and control himself.

“There. I hope you have learned that this is futile.” The voice says. The wording is smug, but the voice remains blandly observational.

The alien picks up the saw and steps closer, holding it over Ryou’s left arm.

Ryou stills, every muscle in his body tensed. He’s still aching from the shock and too aware of his helplessness. Fighting did nothing but hurt him, so all he can do is wait and hope for an opportunity.

The saw gives a gentle buzz, the blade inside spinning so quickly it looks like a solid, faintly glowing white disk. Then, slowly, it lowers into the armor.

Ryou holds his breath, utterly still and pressed as far down into the table as he can. There’s no escape. He slams his eyes shut and grits his teeth, preparing for the pain. He survived this once (Shiro survived this, but so did he, even if he doesn’t remember that time). He’ll manage again.

But there’s no blood. No pain. Instead, the saw travels from his shoulder down to his elbow, then goes silent and pulls away. Calmly, the alien lifts Ryou’s tense arm and tugs the cleanly cut pieces of his armor away.

“Wasn’t that better?” The voice says. “Now, let’s make you feel better, too.”

With that, the alien picks up the needle and presses it through Ryou’s undersuit, right into his left bicep. It injects a pale, yellow liquid inside, then pulls it back.

Immediately, Ryou feels a rushing heat shoot through his veins. His heart rate picks up, which just spreads the drug through him faster.

He feels...

Awake. More than awake. Hyperaware. The room snaps into focus and the cotton in his head vanishes. His heart continues to thud away, even faster than before. His fingers twitch, his muscles tense. The same jolt he feels right before a fight - his body is alive and ready.

“What’s going on?” Ryou croaks out. His mouth is still dry, even without the depressant in his system. Now that his head is clearing up, questions grow in his mind. “Where’s my team?”

“Your fellows are unharmed,” the voice responds. Now that Ryou is more awake and his eyes are focusing, he can see small, metal speakers built into the ceiling. Like a PA system, but hooked into the mind of this alien (he assumes). “It was only you we need.”

We? Ryou looks around, but there’s no others, unless they mean the alien in the tube. Or unless the voice really is a second being, but he doubts that. “Need for what?”

The alien nods to the cloning machine. “To save my species.”

...What?

Ryou continues to twitch, full of energy he can’t release. He’s still pinned down on the cold table. He wants to get up, run,  _ move. _ Whatever he was injected with is working like adrenaline. “If you let me up, we can help you. Is it the Galra? Voltron can-”

“Your team is irrelevant,” the voice interrupts, unconcerned. “We do not fear the Galra. We are far older than them, and have technology far more advanced. They do not even know of us.”

Ryou’s head snaps back to look at the alien, his mouth falling open. “You- Okay. I’ll help you. Whatever you need. But if you’re so much more powerful, why won’t you fight back against them? You could save so many.”

“We are few. We are dying.” The alien walks around the table, placing one long, four-fingered hand on the glass. Ryou looks between the two beings, trying to spot understand the connection between them. He can’t see any differences between them. Is this a family member? A lover? Simply among the few of their species?

Ryou starts to mention the Alteans - if anyone could understand and help, it would be them. But he remembers the flat way the voice had referred to the team - irrelevant. 

For now, he bites his tongue and waits.

“Long ago, our people were strong. Vibrant. We travelled the universe, exploring and learning. We saw pain and disease, aging and death. It became our mission to eliminate that from our people. To grow beyond such troubles. We succeeded. We used cloning technology to perfect our bodies. As other species were just beginning to gain sentience, we were already immortal.”

The alien looked up at the form in the liquid. Their fingers curl as if into claws and they shake their huge head. “But our technology was not perfect. It took millenia for us to discover what we had done. The cloning process was... incomplete. Destructive. With each new body, we corroded our DNA more. Until eventually the bodies we created were no longer able to accept our minds. Immortal... until we weren’t.”

Oh. Ryou can certainly appreciate that. After all, he knows better than most how much cloning can fuck a person up. Ask his taste buds. “I’m sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine.” He really can’t. Losing anyone he knows would be a blow he doesn’t know he could survive. Just watching Lance be injured recently was like having his heart crushed.

What would it be like to lose someone he’s known for hundreds of years? Thousands? Longer than entire species have existed?

It would be like the universe itself being torn to pieces.

The alien nods. They turn and step closer, putting a hand on Ryou’s chest. But it’s not in empathy, one clone to another. It’s clinical. Scientific. Like they’re looking at a project.

The way Haggar used to look at Shiro.

“You cannot,” the voice agrees, still emotionlessly polite. Unconcerned. “But you can help.”

Ryou’s stomach sinks. Creeping alarm crawls up his spine, sinking like claws into the primal parts of his brain. He tries to jerk himself up again, this time with the extra energy of the shot. It does him no more good. “Well, uh, can’t say I’m a perfect clone either. Haggar has a lot to answer for with me. But we can definitely share what research we have. You just need to let me up...”

The alien presses down. Their limbs are spindly, not suited for much physical work. But they have leverage, and Ryou is utterly pinned. They shove his chest back down.

“The research will not do us good,” the alien goes on. The voice still hasn’t changed at all, so different from the scientific  _ hunger _ in those huge, dark, reflective eyes. Ryou can see his own pale face, twisted in fear, looking back at himself.

Ryou winces. “You’re looking for Haggar? We are too. We can help-”

“None of you understand what we do. None of you have the experience. I have researched for hundreds of thousands of years. But, by accident, your creator came up with something... different. You are imperfect, but you are not  _ degraded. _ ”

If Ryou’s mouth wasn’t already dry, it would have been now. “Quintessence,” he murmurs, then winces. Once again, he tries to jerk away, but he gets nowhere. His attempts to turn on his arm are useless.

This is very, very wrong. It might be the shot in his system making his mind run wild, but Ryou suspects however he can help isn’t going to be fun.

“That would be your name for it,” the alien agrees, nodding. “I will understand how it works and how it changed the process. I will understand how it prevents the  _ entropy _ of your body. Then I will save the rest of my people.”

Ryou clears his throat and swallows hard, trying to wet his mouth so he can keep talking. Anything at all to delay this. Stall so he can get away, or his team will find him, or anything at all.

“So, uh, you need DNA samples?” Ryou continues, trying to keep his voice from shaking. It doesn’t work. Actually, his whole body is shaking, a vibration that seems to come from his bones. “I think I need a glass of water, but then I’ll donate all the spit you want. Or a cheek swab, whatever.”

The alien cocks their oversized head at him. There’s no mouth to smile or scowl, and the voice has never given any emotion away.

Sweat builds at the back of Ryou’s neck. Every hair on his body is standing up.

“Do not worry,” the voice continues, still giving absolutely nothing away. “It will not hurt. The shot we have given you will keep your body active and dull the pain. This will make your body easier to study. You will save our species. You will be remembered for all time.”

Nope. Bad.  _ Bad. _ Ryou shakes his head and tries to scramble back against the metal table. Terror has been clawing at him since he woke up, but now he feels it threatening to completely take over. 

“We can- we can talk. We can... I can help, just please...”

“Oh, you are helping. Now please, be still.”

Ryou does, against every instinct. He knows what happens when he doesn’t, and he sees the way the alien’s hand is pointed toward the base of the table again.

There was to be a way to stall. To stop them. To stop this. Ryou can’t just be helpless. He doesn’t even know what they want.

The alien takes the saw again. Ryou watches it, wide-eyed and tense as a cornered animal. Against this being, who is so completely in control, he  _ feels _ wild. Young. Helpless.

The saw whirls to life. Ryou stays stock still again, remembering the ease with which it cut through his armor. He’d been so scared then, but it had just been an injection. Maybe he’s misreading this? This alien doesn’t have the same facial structures. He’s been shot full of adrenaline. He’s become paranoid.

This can’t be real. Ryou cannot be helpless on a table again, at the mercy of some powerful being that wants to ‘study’ him. Not again. This isn’t  _ real. _

The alien lowers the saw down and tilts it to the side. Once again, Ryou goes instinctively stock still, as if they’d held a knife to his throat - which, in essence, they have. The saw goes cleanly through the side of his chest plate. 

They walk to the other side and repeat the same process. His chest armor falls away completely, clattering on the floor. The sound of the saw, still going, mostly drowns out the noise.

Ryou looks around, trying desperately to find something to talk about. Anything to pause this, to clear the air, to prove he’s going to be safe and returned home.

Ryou wants to go  _ home. _

His eyes fall on the body in the cloning tube. Ryou swallows hard, fingers scraping against the table. “Who is that?” He asks.

The alien pauses, saw still on and shining down onto Ryou. The huge head turns to look at the machine.

“That is me,” the voice tells him. Maybe it’s a trick of his mind, but they sound quieter. The first hint of emotion he’s heard. “It will not take my mind. It is too degraded. This body is the last.”

Oh.

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” the voice continues.

Wait, no-

The saw comes down onto Ryou’s stomach, cutting through the underarmor. There’s a sharp pinch, like the scrape of a nail over his skin.

Blood wells up.

Ryou stares, horrified, transfixed, as the blade travels up. Their control is immaculate, cutting neatly through suit and skin but no further. It feels no different from the injection - sharp sensation and nothing more.

Blood drenches the suit and drips down onto the table, pooling at his sides. He sees the skin start to part the further up the cut goes, until it stops just below his neck.

Ryou has plenty of memories of feeling exposed. He has Shiro’s from the arena, the gleeful enjoyment of his pain and suffering. Haggar playing with his body like a toy she could freely customize. The shows for the coalition, taking their lives and turning them into goofy parody for the consumption of the universe.

This is different from it all. Ryou’s body was always created, picked apart, studied. But to have it pulled open and inspected while he’s still aware, still awake...

He gags

The alien looks down, head cocked, as if it was amusing to watch. Not Ryou’s face, but  _ inside. _

Then they pick the saw back up and move to his side to make a new cut, going from left to right.

Ryou slams his eyes shut, unwilling to watch this again-

And sees a flash of light behind his eyes. There’s a powerful crack, then rending metal. The entire room shakes under him, vibrations running through the metal table and right to his spine.

When Ryou opens his eyes, the door to the room is gone, frame and all. It rests on the ground in a twisted heap.

Three familiar, armored shapes stand on the other side.

Thank  _ fuck. _

“No!” For the first time, the voice sounds  _ angry. _ Not only that, but scared. “You do not understand. You’ll kill us all!”

Lance steps through the door, his rifle aimed right at the alien’s ahead. “You should have thought of that before you kidnapped-” his eyes flicker to the side, and his eyes go wide. His expression goes from furious to pure horror. “Ryou!”

He can see-

Ryou flinches, which does nothing to stem the flow of blood. He tries to turn away, but he’s suddenly afraid of things inside  _ shifting _ wrong, so he stills. All he can do is lay there, pinned in place, and be  _ seen _ .

The alien takes full advantage of the distraction. They turn and run while Lance stares. 

The door is still blocked. Hunk comes through, his bayard out - no doubt the source of the destruction. Shiro is right after him, eyes snapping right onto Ryou. Both go pale.

Ryou winces. His arms twitch with the  _ need _ to cover himself. To keep them from  _ seeing. _

But the alien doesn’t go for the door, or for another hidden exit. Instead, they go for the cloning tube. The long, pale fingers type furiously on the console. The machine gives a faint beep, then hums as it activates. The fluid begins to drain out.

Lance continues to stare at Ryou. His eyes fill with tears, dripping down his cheeks.

Then his entire expression contorts into rage.

He whirls and fires. Again. Again. Over and over.

When Ryou tears his eyes away from Lance’s face, he sees the alien slump to the ground. There’s a new hole in the back of their head, as well as the center of their back. Both bleed sluggish, grey liquid.

Immune to aging and disease. But apparently not being shot.

Blue liquid gushes from the tank as well, spilling onto the floor. The body inside crumples without anything to hold it up. Several more holes litter it’s chest.

Ryou stares at it and can’t help but feel sympathy. Not for his captor, but for this body that was too weak. That was imperfect. That died before ever being something.

“I would have helped,” Ryou mumbles out. He realizes he’s dizzy. Shock, or maybe bloodloss. He’s still bleeding. His back and hips are wet.

This wasn’t right. But if he could have, he would have happily been scanned and had his DNA sampled. He would have shared resources and research. Ryou would have  _ helped. _ They were like him, in a way.

And in others, so different.

A hand settles on Ryou’s cheek. He starts, then turns to look at Lance. Tears are still streaming down his cheeks. It’s a good thing he’s not wearing his helmet, because the glass would have fogged up.

“Hi,” Ryou manages.

“Hi,” Lance replies, giving a trembling smile. He’s leaning over Ryou, blocking his view of the Hunk and Shiro. Which is good - he doesn’t want to see them looking. He doesn’t want to know they can  _ see. _ “We’re going to fix this, okay?”

“Big bandage,” Ryou replies. His lips feel clumsy. He leans into Lance’s palm, because it’s warm and gentle. After the clinical indifference of the alien, he’s stupidly thankful.

“Yeah, no kidding, buddy. How do you get into these messes?” Lance gives him a trembling smile. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Shot. Injection. Arm.” Ryou gives his left shoulder a jolt, then makes a face. “Mm. No more moving.”

Lance nods. “Definitely not.” He looks back. “He’s bolted down. I don’t know how to...”

“I’ve got it.” Shiro’s voice is tight and controlled. He steps closer, his lips pressed thin and his expression guarded.

Hunk doesn’t approach. There’s a soft noise, like he’s trying not to gag. Which, yeah, understandable.

Ryou frowns at Shrio, confused at his hard expression. Then he realizes Shiro is mad. “Didn’t mean to,” he manages. He didn’t  _ try _ to get kidnapped and bleed everywhere. Or is Shiro mad because everyone can see Ryou’s insides? They’re his too. He probably doesn’t like that.

Shiro closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Then he activates his arm. With careful precision (like the alien’s), he brings his fingers down into the restraints, cutting through them. He doesn’t go all the way - once he’s mostly through, he uses his strength to crack the metal the rest of the way.

Oh, that’s nice. Ryou appreciates not being burned.

“Sorry,” Ryou tries again. 

“No, no no no.” Lance gently directs Ryou’s head to look at him. “No one’s mad at you, Ryou. Promise. We’re very mad at what happened.”

“Oh. That’s good.” Ryou closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Shiro continues to move around, silent and tense, as he breaks Ryou free.

It’s quiet. He’s glad not to hear the saw anymore, or that constant voice. He’s not sure if he’s tired because the shot wore off, or because of the relief at being saved, or blood loss. Maybe all of it.

“Ryou?” Lance’s voice cracks. “Hey, buddy, are you with me?”

“Dizzy,” Ryou says. He blinks his eyes back open. “Tired. Might sleep. Don’t think I should walk?”

“No, that’s definitely not a good idea.” Lance glances back at Hunk, then over to Shiro. “I think we’re going to get Coran to bring one of those stretchers, okay? A nice comfy ride.”

“Antigravity,” Ryou agrees, bobbing his head. That doesn’t feel too weird. He can do that. And wiggle his fingers and toes as Shiro frees them, that’s also okay. “Very useful. Told everyone.”

“You were absolutely right. You should tell them that.”

Ryou closes his eyes and smiles. He still feels weird, but with Lance over him and joking, it’s so much easier to take. Like when Keith and Shiro had rescued him in that sand valley. “I should. Later.” He blinks his eyes open and gives Lance a slow smile. “Hey. We’re even now.”

Lance sniffles, his expression crumpling. But he manages to keep up his smile, even as it trembles. “Not until you’re out of the pod and better.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s fair.” Ryou leans into his hand. “Glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” Lance leans in, carefully pressing their helmeted foreheads together. “Just in time, right?”

“I mean now. Talking. Like talking to you. Best friend. Yours is Hunk, but it’s okay. You're mine.”

Lance sniffles. There’s a faint tremble, and it takes Ryou a minute to realize it’s because Lance is shaking. “You're both my best friends. Don’t be dumb.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” Ryou closes his eyes. “Can I rest?”

“Yeah, buddy, of course you can. Just... wake up later, okay?”

“Mhmm.”

As he goes limp, Ryou lets the murmurs in the background wash over him.

“He’s bleeding a lot. Coran’s coming as fast as he can. He’s bringing Allura,” Hunk reports quietly.

“Does she know how to handle this?”

“I don’t know. She could try what she did with the Balmera.”

“It’s worth a shot. But if it doesn’t work, we might need to stem it somehow else.”

“There’s no bandages around here,” Lance says slowly. “What exactly do you suggest?”

“I can...” Shiro trails off meaningfully.

Silence.

Ryou presses harder into Lance’s gentle palm. He recognizes that plan. After all, he’d had it himself once, back when he thought he was Shiro. “No,” he mumbles out. “Don’t.” Cauterizing that one small wound on his thigh had been bad. Doing his whole chest would be so much worse.

Lance’s voice shushes him gently. His helmet is pulled away and fingers brush through his hair. “We’ll keep you safe. Coran’ll be here soon.”

Okay. Lance was going to keep him safe. Like he did before.

Like he did to the person in the tank.

Ryou dozes, never fully sleeping. Eventually, more voices come. He only manages to crack his eyes open and give Allura a smile when she steps over. 

“Don’t worry,” Allura says gently. Her voice shakes, but her hands are steady. “We’re going to fix this, okay?”

Her hands touch down on either side of Ryou’s chest. He feels the way the undersuit squishes, drenched in blood. Her hands are going to be coated.

She can see inside.

Ryou closes his eyes and trembles. He sees the pink light. The pain doesn’t change, but he’s not sure if that’s because of the shot or because she’s healing him.

He hears other voice. Pidge, hissing and furious to Keith. Lance and Hunk, painfully quiet. Coran and Allura, both projecting confidence, but nerves audible.

Nothing at all from Shiro.

Is he gone?

Ryou manages to look again. The world is swimming like it was before - the shot wore off, but the original drugs haven’t. Or he’s just dizzy from blood loss.

Coran is right over him now. He gives a smile, bright except for the strain behind his eyes. “Ah, you’re still up? Are you ready for your ride?”

Right, a stretcher. Ryou gives a tiny nod. “Yeah.”

“Atta boy. Shiro, would you give me a hand?”

Shiro steps into Ryou’s view. He’s paler than usual, his scar a violently bright streak over his nose. His eyes are dark enough to look black, his jaw set.

Both of them slide their arms below Ryou, supporting him from his to his knees. It feels odd, and Ryou bites back a chuckle at the image they must make, trying to heave his big, limp body around.

Then they lift him. And suddenly the very distant pain is  _ not. _ There’s shifting and jolting and strain.

Ryou whines. His dry throat catches on itself until he instinctively coughs.

That  _ hurts. _ His whole body jolts, and Ryou instinctively reaches up to hold everything in place. This time he can, but the moment he moves his shoulders too much, the ripping sensation gets worse.

“Ryou!” Coran snaps. He’s dropped onto a stretcher. The hands pull away and instead grab his shoulders, holding him back down. “Don’t move. Don’t!”

_ Pain. _

It hurts, but that’s not even the worst of it. Ryou feels messed up, limp, weak, floating. Put together wrong.

The dark, thick exhaustion drags him down. Ryou finally sinks.

As he does, he imagines himself in the tube, water gushing out. Shiro lays on the floor, shot in the head and back.

He would have  _ helped. _

***

Ryou wakes up and falls.

Big arms catch him, pulling him against a solid chest. Ryou only has to see the yellow shirt to know who has him. 

Ryou’s hands immediately snap to his own chest, palms wide as if to hold everything back. But he’s wearing the suit for the pod, and there’s no hint of an open wound below - not even pain.

He’s fixed. He’s safe. He’s whole.

As Hunk’s arms close tightly around him, Ryou gives a squeak.

Well, whole for the moment. He might be crushed into two by the time Hunk lets him go.

“Ryou!” Hunk buries his face in his hair. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere? Oh, that was  _ awful. _ There was blood everywhere and we were so worried, and-”

Ryou pats Hunk on the shoulder, smiling into his chest. “Doing fine, big guy. Thanks for the rescue.”

“Hey c’mon!” Pidge says. “Share him. We were all worried.”

Hunk gives a huge, watery sniff, but obligingly pulls back. Ryou barely gets steady on his feet before Pidge attaches himself to his waist and clings.

“Hey,” Ryou greets, softening automatically. As capable as he knows Pidge is, something about her in emotional distress squeezes his heart especially hard. She’s normally so confident and self-assured. Plus, unfair as it is, she’s  _ small. _ It tugs at his heart strings. “I’m okay.”

Now that he’s not mashed into Hunk’s chest, Ryou can see the pod room is, as usual, full of the team. Most everyone is crowded close, in various states of exhaustion. Clearly, it’s been a rough time since he was taken.

“So, uh,” Ryou swallows hard against a swell of emotion. He knows they care, but it’s always uncomfortable to see them worried over him. He’d do the same, but he never likes seeing them obviously hurting. “What happened?”

Keith glances back at where Shiro leans against the wall, arms crossed. Then he clears his throat. “How much do you remember?”

“Landing on Olkarion,” Ryou replies. He’d been fully ready to spend their brief stop bothering Shiro about changing out his arm. “I went to see the new shops and, uh... nothing after that. Until, you know, I woke up with that big headed alien. Some talking, some not talking, then you guys showed up. Then I passed out.”

Pidge squeezes him again, then takes a step back and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “We didn’t even know something was wrong until we noticed you didn’t come back. Then we had trouble tracking your armor. The ship you were in messed with the Castle’s scanners. It took Hunk talking to Yellow to find you.”

Oh, huh. “Yeah, that tracks, actually. I don’t think they had a really good understanding of quintessence. At least, not the way we do.” Ryou shrugs and gives Pidge a squeeze on the shoulder. 

Once Pidge steps away, Keith is next. He offers his fist, which Ryou grins and bumps, before pulling him into a one-armed hug. It’s more brief than Pidge or Hunk, but not less heartfelt. “So by the time we got to you, it was longer than it should have been. Far longer,” Keith says.

“Just in time, by my standards,” Ryou says, shrugging. He can remember all too clearly the feeling of being cut open and  _ exposed, _ but they’d managed to arrive before the  _ real _ studying started. To Ryou, that’s a win.

Allura steps up and wraps her arms around Ryou, yanking him down a couple of inches. “It was not! It was terrifying, Ryou. I didn’t even know if I could begin to undo that damage.”

“Well, that’s what the pods are for. But I’m thankful for anything you tried.” Ryou holds her back, arms settling around her waist. “I’m doing okay now. I’m sorry for the scare. No more wandering off to crowded areas alone, lesson learned. What did you learn about the alien that nabbed me?”

Allura pulls back and pats her hand over Ryou’s chest, as if making  _ sure _ he was properly healed up. Then she frowns and turns to Pidge and Hunk. “Actually, there was a problem with that, wasn’t there?”

Pidge huffs and crosses her arms, bangs falling into her face. Ryou’s used to seeing her angry, but this has an extra, dark edge. “I couldn’t even access any of the computers. If it had any input at all, we couldn’t find it. And we looked.”

“Nothing in there was like what we’ve seen.” Hunk shuddered. “Not that we were really thinking clearly, but it was wild. At least Galra and Altean technology makes sense. Like, it’s advanced, but it works off the same  _ parts. _ This... I still don’t know what we were looking at.”

“Oh. Yeah. That-” Ryou cut off as he was tugged to the side, into Coran’s arms. “Hey there. Another quick save, huh, Coran?”

“I would deeply appreciate if you would all give the pods a break. At least for a phoebe.” Coran gives a dainty sniff that does nothing to hide the true distress in his eyes. “Between you and Lance I’ve had plenty of scares.”

At the name, Ryou glances over at Lance. He’s standing in the middle of the pod room, arms wrapped tightly around himself, complexion sickly.

Ah, man.

“I promise as much as I can while fighting an intergalactic war,” Ryou says, holding up one hand in promise. He wraps an arm around Coran’s shoulders and gives him a squeeze. 

“Yeah, this being was a weird one,” Ryou continues. “Older than, like, the Galran or Altean races, I think. Personally. His species was immortal because they kept cloning themselves until they kinda... broke their DNA. Apparently Haggar did something different with me, and they wanted to study me. Personally.”

“Gross,” Hunk says. He closes his eyes and shudders. “I think I’m glad we didn’t get any of that info.”

“You know what? Me too.” Once Ryou’s released, he holds out his arms and pouts at Lance. “I think I’m missing some hugs, here.”

Lance stares at him. Then he breaks into a sprint, physically hurling himself at Ryou. They impact hard, chest to chest, arms wrapped clumsily around each other.

Lance doesn’t even land properly. He wraps his legs around Ryou’s waist, clinging like a koala. “Never do that again!” 

“I’m going to do my best.” Ryou stumbles, not prepared for that weight when he’s just gotten out of the pod. But Hunk and Keith both put a hand on his back, keeping him steady until he recovers. “You were great, though. My hero.”

Lance sniffles into his shoulder. “It was awful.”

“I really can’t imagine.” It was terrible to go through. Ryou wouldn’t know what he’d do if he came into a room and found Lance cut open on a table. Probably completely lose his mind. “But you took out the asshole who did it.”

And the clone. But Ryou’s not going to make a fuss about that. It wasn’t a functioning body to begin with. It’s not worth torturing Lance with could-have-beens.

“I should have killed him  _ more, _ ” Lance insists. He pulls back, revealing his red eyes and fierce scowl. His hair is a wild mess, and he has deep bags under his eyes.

Nightmares, no doubt. Poor guy. Ryou had the same, when Lance was shot in front of him.

Ryou squeezes him tightly. “You killed him the important amount. And then you were there for me. I can’t tell you how much it means to me, Lance. You kept me from panicking. That would have been... bad.”

“Yeah.” Lance hugs him back hard, then finally unwravells himself from Ryou. “I’m just... glad you’re okay.”

“I am, in big part thanks to you. We’re definitely even now, right?”

“Right.” Lance gives him a smile, even if it’s ragged at the edges.

Ryou glances over at Shiro again. He’s still in the same place, head tilted down as he watches. Their eyes meet, but he doesn’t move, his jaw set.

Okay, yeah, that needs to be handled.

Ryou throws a casual arm around Lance and gives him another quick squeeze. “Is it too soon to joke that you guys could probably see how empty my stomach was? I could use lunch.”

“It’s absolute too soon,” Keith tells him flatly, eyes flashing. He gives Ryou a shove, but it’s not even strong enough to make him rock. “Both of you, I swear.”

“It’s a family trait,” Ryou chirps. Then he sticks his bottom lip about at Hunk. “Lunch? I’m good with goo, too.”

Hunk’s eyes flash with determination. “No. Oh no. After what you went through? You’re getting the best, crunchiest, most aromatic lunch I can make.” He gives a thin smile, chin raised high. “While you were out, I asked around, and there’s a Ssothesse grocery here on Olkarion.”

Mouth falling open, Ryou stares at Hunk. Then he absolutely beams. This had been a distraction to clear the room, but that’s still  _ great _ news. Ssothesse cuisine was all about texture and smell, not taste, so as close to fine dining as Ryou can get. “Really?”

“I’ll go set it up.” Hunk sets off, a fire clearly lit inside of him. 

“What cuisine?” Pidge asked, craning to watch Hunk go.

“Go follow and find out,” Ryou says, nodding after Hunk. “It won’t take long to set up.”

Keith catches Ryou’s eyes, his brows both up. He very clearly can tell what Ryou’s plan is. So he makes shooing motions at the group. “Come on, let’s give Ryou space to breathe. Let him sit down for five minutes before we eat.”

The group reluctantly shuffles along, giving Ryou quick goodbyes or squeezes as they go. Lance hovers the longest, clearly reluctant.

Ryou gives him a last hug, then lets him go. “Gimme ten?” Ryou asks, voice low. He let his eyes flicker to Shiro. “I still have a hug debt. But Hunk could probably use a hand. That food has a lot of set up.”

Taking a deep breath, Lance nods. “Yeah. Okay. See you in a bit. Don’t get kidnapped on the way.”

“I already promised!”

Lance gives him a last flash of a smile, then shoots Shiro a quick look before bounding out.

With the room finally quiet, Ryou steps off the platform and makes his slow, casual way up to Shiro. He puts his hands on his hips and eyes him. “What’s a guy got to do around here to get some brotherly affection, huh?”

Shiro stares at him.

Then his hand shoots out, grabbing Ryou by the wrist. He yanks him in and pulls him in close.

If Hunk’s hug was tight, this is downright punishing. Shiro’s doing nothing to hide his Galra-prosthetic strength.

But Ryou’s made of tough stuff too, so he hugs back as good as he gets. “You okay?”

“Are you really asking me that right now?” Shiro says into Ryou’s shoulder.

“Well, it sucked, but I think I was conscious for maybe a varga total. Your suffering was longer.”

Shiro lets out a long sigh. “It was... bad. And you were scared, and I couldn’t... I’m sorry.”

“I get it.”

And honestly, Ryou does. He has no idea what he’d do if the situation was flipped. Lose his fucking mind, maybe. 

“I had Lance. He kept me calm, you got me out, and you all saved me.”

Shiro holds him tighter. “You were...”

Ryou swallows hard and shiveres. Intellectually, he knows no one on the team was looking around inside - if anything, they were probably avoiding looking. And even if they did, they wouldn’t have seen anything but blood and... parts.

But it’s still terrifying. To be exposed in the most literal, bodily way.

It was a horror Ryou hadn’t known to fear. And he’s not nearly as private as Shiro is.

“I know.” Ryou takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. He can still so clearly see the alien over him, feel the saw cutting through. See the clone, slumped dead in the tube.

That’ll be showing up in his dreams tonight, he knows. Probably for the next while.

What else is new?

Ryou leans into Shiro’s embrace. “I’m not dead. That’s the most important part. You know that better than anyone.”

“You shouldn’t have to keep surviving these things.” Shiro’s voice is rough, quiet but full of emotion.

Ryou knows him well enough to know he means them both.

“Yeah,” Ryou agrees, closing his eyes. “But we do. And we won’t stop.”

Shiro says nothing. Just holds on.

Ryou does the same.

Then he reaches up and ruffles Shiro’s hair, just to see his eyes go wide. Immediately, he reaches up to fix it.

“C’mon, you’re going to want to try this stuff. It’s cool. It’s like a different way of tasting.” Ryou gives him a grin, which softens. “Don’t beat yourself up, okay? You don’t have to be perfect in the moment all the time. That’s why we have a team”

Shiro swallows hard, but nods. “Okay.” He gives a tiny, fragile smile. “You know I’m not letting you go out alone for a while, right?”

“Already dreading it.” A complete lie. Honestly, Ryou doesn’t want to go anywhere alone. Not anywhere soon.

Ryou does better with his family around him.

“Come on. I’m hungry.”

“Alright.” Shiro gives him a final squeeze, then extracts himself. He combs his hair into place one more time. “For the record? The empty stomach thing was pretty good.”

“Like I said, family trait.”

Ryou heads to the kitchen, side by side with Shiro, and takes a deep, steadying breath. 

He thinks of the alien and dead clone. He can’t feel any actual regret for what happened, but he does mentally toast to what could have been.

Ryou would have helped. He always would help when he can. So would his family.

They made their choice.

His is to live on with the people he loves.


End file.
